


burn (septiplier)

by orphan_account



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: AU, Firefighter, Markiplier - Freeform, Romance, Septiplier - Freeform, Septiplier away, jacksepticeye - Freeform, septicplier - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2020-08-23 21:10:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 26,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20225056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Mark is a firefighter, and when he saves a single fathers child, he feels the burn too.





	1. sparked: part one (mark)

It all started when I got the call. But let's leave you hanging for a little bit.

If you saw me on the street, you wouldn't really know who I was. I look like your average Joe, at least what you can see of me. You wouldn't see the scars that pattern my back, that ache even though they're long healed. You wouldn't see me sobbing as I went to that little girl's funeral. You'd just see...well, me. Let me introduce myself. My name's Mark. I'm your friendly local librarian. Never mind the stuff I said earlier, do you need any reading recommendations?

It was a normal day, I was just running the desk, but then Lena's parents came in. Fuck. Lena is my girlfriend, and while her parents are great, they can be a little (read: a lot) overbearing. Ever since Lena and I were in Mrs. Dettinger's kindergarten class, they've kept us together. When I moved, they moved for christ's sake. THEY MOVED. Simply so their daughter could be with me. MInd you, this was in 3rd grade, when I couldn't even comprehend romance.

Anyways, as I was saying, overbearing. And they're walking right towards me.

"Hey Mark," Lena's father says.

"Hello, Greg. Karen, you're looking great!"

"Oh please, Mark, you'll make me blush," Karen says, her face not moving because of all the plastic she's gotten injected into it. Well, not really plastic, but you get the jist.

"So we wanted to talk to you about Lena. We think it's about time you...proposed."

"Proposed? Don't you think that that's being a little hasty?"

"Mark, you two have been dating for 5 years. You're 21. That's a perfectly fine age to be married, and besides, you have a stable job, a good house, and you need someone at the house after what happened last year."

The thought of what happened last year makes me grimace. Last year, my grandmother died, and as she was the only relative that I had left, I've been alone. It hasn't been that bad, Lena's a good companion, but I still miss her so much.

"Ok, thanks for letting me know guys. I need to save up for a little, because the ring's a big investment, but I'm sure it'll be worth it! Bye now."

"Bye Mark," they say in unison, which I've always found a little creepy. Are they really that in sync? If they are, that's more disturbing than their obsession with me and their daughter's relationship. That's one more thing that I have to deal with.

Now I'm not saying that Lena's is a bad person, but she's just not right for me, y'know?. I mean, I like women, and I'm attracted to them, but she's just not the one. She's strangely, too perfect, and my fucking god, her parents just walked in and asked me to PROPOSE to her. There's something seriously wrong with them. I feel like they'd kidnap people and y'know, just casually shove them in the basement.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts of serial killers by a small child.

"Hello there. Mister. I'm looking for a book about...gay people."

"I can help you out!"

Judging by the looks on her friend's faces, she's been dared by them to ask me this. Good thing for her I know where the gay romance is. (no smut of course. I wouldn't to that to such a kind, young, innocent child.)

She gasps, and asks "How did you know exactly where it was," clearly confused about how I found it so easily.

"Of course I know darling, I AM bi, you know."

She frowns at me. "My mom used to say you people are going to hell," but then she grabs my favorite, Carry On, and winks.

After another (blissfully) quiet day, I think about her as I lock up. I feel like there's someone behind me, but I guess not, judging from the abandoned alleyway. I'm seeing things. It's probably just a good night's sleep that I need...but not tonight.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Hey kiddos, it's raez, and this is an idea I had. My brain is full of this right now, and I also hopefully have an original story that I'll be posting on here, so stay tuned, and as the school year is starting up soon, updates may be a little less frequent (I'll keep trying.) Don't forget to punch that kudos button in the face (like a boss, and I will see all you kiddos in the next chapter! (if you want it, let me know in the comments)


	2. sparked: part two (mark)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow...this got a LOT of attention in less than 24 hours. The idea is still fresh in my brain so...here's a new chapter!
> 
> Also, I'm so sorry if it's bad. We found a dead mama rabbit and her (thankfully alive) baby, so we've trying to preserve its life for as long as we can, and I've been writing sporadically. 
> 
> 200 words longer than the first chapter! Slowly getting into the swing of it!

Alright, I think that’s ample time to learn a little about me. Now, let’s talk about that call, yes? About two months ago, I had to head up to the township department to turn in my apartments water bill. While I was there, I saw two people arguing way too loud, and decided to check it out. 

“Is everything ok here?”

“Yes, it’s fine, but it isn’t.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, Colby here and I were discussing how we could get more people for the volunteer fire department, because apparently some people don’t care about the well-being of others.”

“Actually,” the one I now know as Colby says, “you’re the perfect candidate. How about it.”

“Um….”

“Fit, no friends, nothing to lose.”

“The no friends part is a little rude, but I guess you’re right. Where do I sign up?”

Colby hands me some papers. “Turn these in by friday this week at the fire station.”

Now that I think about it, I don’t even really know where it is. 

“By the karate place?”

“Yes, I’ll be glad to see you there.”

“You too!”

Well...something to put meaning into my empty life.

So yeah. After I turned in the paperwork on friday, just in time (apparently), but I doubt that they’re picky, judging from the fact that they only have like 15 people.

Anyways, it was the saturday after that when I got the call.

“Hey Mark,” one of the firefighters-Jacob I think-asked.

“Yes?”

“We need you.”

“Really?!” My heart leapt at the thought of saving someone.

“Yeah. You need to go through training first though.”

“Dammit. Ok. I’m free every evening.”

“Really?”

“Shut your mouth. I’ll be over in a sec.”

I grabbed my bike (yes, I don’t have a car, but my legs are ripped), and pedaled furiously towards the station. The way I’m saying this sounds like it was kiddish, but it wasn’t, I swear.

When I got there, Jacob was waiting, along with Colby and Alea.

“Wassup my broski? It’s time to get TRAINED,” Jacob bellowed.

“Lordy jesus, Jacob, yes.”

After three fucking HOURS of doing some sort of twisted miliatary boot camp, all Jacob said was “rinse and repeat my dude. I’ll see you back here tomorrow, same time.”

If I was this sore right now, I doubt I’d have any more fun the second, third, fourth time, etc. for the next MONTH.

Every night, the workout differed a little, but I slowly adjusted. Learning CPR, working a hose, lifting heavy ass bags of weights.

So when I stepped out of the library after locking up, I was just hoping for a call. And I got one. I had turned the contact’s name to “Mom” so no one was suspicious, because I was turning into a fucking incognito superhero here. 

“Alright Mark, time to head down to the station for your “mission”,” Jacob says.

“Ok,” I answer shakily.

HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT IT’S HAPPENING.

The library is actually pretty close, so I just walk, and it only takes me a minute or two to get there. Shit. I forgot I have to suit up. Ok..let’s do this.

We’re in the truck, speeding towards a fire, and I’m freaking out, and Jacob’s reviewing protocol.

“Ok. Just get the people. I think we can stop it with water this time.”

“Aye aye captain,” we all drone. That alone almost makes me giggle, with my pent up nervousness, and remembrance of spongebob as a child.

“Also, if you haven’t met our newest recruit yet, this is Mark. Say hello, Mark.”

“Hello, Mark.”

“Very funny smart-ass.”

“Always, Jacob.”

“Always a smart-ass? I thought so. I guess that’s why not many people come to the library.”

“Or why you don’t have a girlfriend,” Alea chimes in. She’s 6 foot tall, and fuckin’ ripped.

“Hold up there Alea, I have a girlfriend. You know Lena Tash?”

“Wait...the one with the weird parents?”

“Yes, that one.”  
“Woah, I heard that they’re-”

She’s cut off by Jacob.

“Time to shine ladies, and I mean ladies in the highest sense,” he says, winking at Alea.

We all hop out, but as I prepare to leave, he stops me.

“Sorry Mark, you’re just here to watch.”

“SO I PUT ON THIS SUIT FOR ABSOLUTELY NOTHING?”

“Yep. Practice.”

“Ok…”

“Next time, maybe.”

He runs into the flame-engulfed building.

“Hey Mark, we could use a little help here.”

I smile at Alea. I actually really like her. It’s funny, most of us don’t really do this for the money, but she’s been here for a while. Does she have a job? I make a mental note to ask, and rush over to them.

“I like hoses.” What the fuck was that Mark? Do you WANT to sound stupid?

“Good. You can help us hold them. They’re actually really heavy.”

They are. I can tell you that.

Then I hear a scream from behind me. It’s Alea…


	3. sparked: part three (mark)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> another chapter for all you wonderful kiddos

Alea was screaming. She didn't really seem like the type to scream, so it was really terrifying. I knew something had gone wrong, but it was just what had gone wrong at this point, and if it was fixable. When I looked behind her, I realized it immediately. You know the little basket thingy on a fire truck that goes up really far? I think it's called and apple picker or something?

Anyways, I think something's gone wrong with the mechanism because it's tilting, and it tilting, and it's on a crash course with the house, and I've dropped the hose...

"Jacob." is all that Alea says, and I can see her steeling herself as she prepares to run in.

"Alea, no. It's too dangerous."

"I've gone 5 fucking years without confessing my love to him and I swear I'm going to make it 6," she growl, and run in.

I myself, being naturally stupid, follow her.

I'm glad I wore my suit. It's like an inferno in here, probably because it IS, in fact, an inferno. The guy in the apple picker is ok, I saw him fleeing from the flames, but there's still no sign of Jacob or Alea. I run further in, and I can barely see now. And panic is setting in, because dammit I can't see, and then I hear more screaming. Muffled Alea screaming, as a matter of fact. I work my way through the smoke, trying my best to avoid the millions of embers swirling in the air, but suddenly I have a flashback.

I'm maybe 5 or 6. We're outside, and I think it's the 4th of July. My godmother just pulled out some sparklers, and I'm pumped. She hands me 2, so I decide to do the reckless thing, and spin around in circles until I'm dizzy, watching the embers fly. It's all fun and games until I see a cluster of them headed straight for my shoulder. MARK. MARK. 

"MARK! MOVE," I hear Alea shout, and as I look up I see a timber about to fall right on my head. Thankfully, I manage to avoid it, and keep making my way over to Alea and Jacob. When I get there I see that Jacob suit is badly scorched, and Alea's is well on the way to being like it too. 

"Alea, we have to go," I say, and I can see the tears streaming down her face. "It's ok, I'll help you carry him."

We make a seat for him out of our hands, and drag him on. Huh. Looks like that months of lifting weights actually did something for me, because either he's a lot lighter than he looks, or I actually have muscles now.

I can just feel the walls of the house getting ready to collapse, so I hurry up the pace, and we manage to get out of that maze of a house. As we stumble into the night, a crowd has gathered and what do you know, that girl from the library is here. . It disgusts me how people gather around the scene of a tragedy, gasping and marveling at a house, nay, a HOME going up in flames before their very eyes. They always say that material things can be replaced, but can the memories be replaced? Can a treasured photo album be replaced? A doll? Or a stuffed animal that's been there for you since birth?

I don't think so. That's the problem. Imagine you didn't look at that picture of your grandmother every day. Material objects mean nothing, but the memories that we put into them mean the world.

Where was I? Oh yes. People watching the carnage. the little girl seems so enraptured. I guess it is a little beautiful, even if I have been inside the hell it is.

But I shouldn't be going off onto philosophical tangents. I have to take care of Jacob right now. It takes all of my strength to pull Alea off him, and once the ambulance pulls up, I have to hold Alea back. If the tears were streaming down her face before, they're waterfalling now.

Damn. She's relly devoted to this guy. Wait I forgot. What was it I was going to ask her? Never mind.

It's one in the morning and I'm watching the local news, hoping for something, anything about Jacob. Alea and I have been texting nonstop since we both got home, and as soon as see that shaggy hair I fire off another message.

Sighted on channel 53

Yay! Thanks for the help Mark!

No problem!

So, Jacob has pretty bad second degree burns, but he's gonna be fine. Thank god, because I feel like Alea would have gone all psycho had the news been anything but that. Speak of the devil, and incoming call from her. 

"Mark! I'm so happy! HE'S GONNA BE OK!!!" the excitement is filling her voice.

"So. How's it going with the mega-crush on this dude/"

"What? Why would you say that?"

"Oh, I'm not sure. Maybe my LOOOOVE detector went off."

"Shut UP Mark. It's just something small."

"Maybe you should go visit him. That's definitely something a love interest would do."

"You have me convinced. I'll go do it tomorrow. What should I give him, o god of love?"

"Candy. Mark it super sweet with lots of sour coating. I'm pretty sure he loves that."

"Only pretty sure?"

"Fuck off. Go buy the candy."

"Mark...it's 1:36. I'll do it tomorrow. Goodnight."

"Night, Alea."

It's maybe three in the morning, and I'm still on the recliner in front of the TV.

"In other news," the tv lady says, "another murder by pharaohs, two mysterious killers who seem to only target peaceful people... More on that at-"

She's cut off abruptly as I fall asleep.

When I wake up, there's a commercial for flex seal playing, and my phone is blowing up.

MARK HELP! I DON'T KNOW WHAT KIND OF CANDY TO GET

HELP

HELP

MARK

M

A

R

K

HELP

H

E

L

P 

ok woah, I just woke up. um...try sour patch kids. they're my favorite

MARK YOU'RE A LIFE SAVER

ALRIGHT I'M DRIVING THERE

YAY HE LOVES THEM

BEST

WINGMAN

EVER

She sends me a picture of her and Jacob, smiling.

Another successful couple-to-be made. You've outdone yourself Mark. The happy moment is interrupted by Lena calling me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOHOO THREE CHAPTERS IN LIKE 24 HOURS. THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE KIDDOS! don't forget to punch that kudos button in the face LIKE A BOSS, and I will see you all in the next chapter!
> 
> my god it's late for me
> 
> also, what's your favorite kind of candy?


	4. sparked: part four (mark)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter for all you fangirls, fanboys, and fanhumans! If you liked it, punch that kudos button in the face (like a boss) and I will see you kiddos in the next video!  
-raez

Why am I so good at helping other people find love when I'm trapped in a relationship I don't want to be in? I pick up the phone.

"Hi Lena," I say tiredly.

"Oh, hi Mark!" she says perkily. Everything about this bitch is perky. She's just too high energy. "So, I was thinking...maybe we could go out this weekend?"

"Yeah, sure. You choose, and I'll meet you there."

"Ok! Love you!"

"Love you."

Thank god she hangs up, I don't think I could have endured her grating voice for another second. After a little while more sitting in the chair contemplating how I'm going to get away from her and her absolutely batshit crazy parents when I break up with her. The funny thing is, I don't want to leave this town. Everyone here is really nice, and I think I've found my niche. To be honest, what I love the most is my job. Well, if you're being technical, two jobs. If I had to choose, I'd honestly say librarian, just because I love to read.

When I was growing up I WAS POOR. My family didn't read books, we burned them to keep ourselves warm in winter. But I had one that I had to keep. From the moment I first read it until now, the book was actually Carry on. I know it seems funny, but the plot mixes just the right amount of action, adventure, mixed viewpoints, and of course, dashing vampire that make it so wonderful.

I've known I was bi since the 8th grade. It wasn't all that hard to tell though, after my multiple crushes on every imaginable character in literature and movies ensued. Ugh. This is all too much to think about right now. Maybe I can get another hour of sleep in before the library...

When I wake up, feeling not so refreshed after my horrible attempt at a nap, I'm running late. Dammit.

As I rush into the library, scalding hot coffee in hand, I'm greeted by Nina, one of my library aides, who looks severely overworked.

"Mark, I'm so glad you're here."

"I exist to serve, wonderful library aide."

She giggles, and I begin to start checking out the day's assortment of books. When the line FINALLY ends and I'm left starting to check in the piles of books behind the counter, I see carry on already in the pile of returned books, having just been dropped off by the girl.

"Didn't think you'd like it that much," I joke.

She looks up t me, eyes shining in a way that I thought could only happen in movies.

"Are there other books like that?" she asks.

"Of course! I have a few ideas but first tell me which genre you like better: historical fiction, or realistic fiction?"

"I like realistic a lot better."

"Well, it's time to change your mind." I hand her "a gentleman's guide to vice and virtue" and say 

"You'll thank me for it later. I wish all historical fiction books were as good as this one."

"Ok...I guess I'll try it. Thank you!'

"You're welcome."

Nothing else really sticks out, except for the fact that I have to do storytime today. Oh well. I've always loved kids. We sing songs, use those little egg maracas, and of course read a story or two. Funny thing is, there's someone here who I've never seen before. He doesn't look like your stereotypical father though.

He's about my age, but has a little one with him, and the timeworn look of having more than one kid. Dealing with families all day, you learn to see and make inferences on what a person's life is like simply based on their appearance.

I know, I know, don't judge a book by it's cover and all, but sometimes appearances don't lie. Another thing, he has bright, and I mean BRIGHT green hair, which isn't something you'd even see on someone who isn't a father. He does have the attitude for it though, gazing down adoringly on the baby in his arms, who as a matter of fact is pretty cute. Chubby cheeks, perfect little hands and feet, and I'm getting way too distracted because it's now that I realize the entire little class is staring at me and I'm staring at the dad. I'll be surprised if he's single.

A woman walks toward us. Bingo, I called it...but wait, she's not going for him, she's just going for a seven year old who somehow found himself stranded on an isle of toddlers. She bats her eyelashes at him on the way out though, and maybe he is single. I doubt he's gay though, from the way he smiles back at her. 

Damn, he's cute...er...the baby is cute. Yes. the baby is cute.

He smiles at me, and I swear I melt into a puddle of happiness. I regain my composure, and finish singing the goodbye song with the kids. 

"Goodbye everyone, I'll see you next time."

"Goodbye Mr. F," they say, because most of them can't pronounce my last name.

As the green hair dad makes his way towards the front of the library, the girl I gave carry on to is joining him.

"Look at this cool book Dad!"

Wait...that's her dad? But where's her mom, since the dad is so obviously not with her?

Things might be looking up, Mark.

As I close the doors to the library, the man rushes up.

"Excuse me, can you let me back in?"

"Sorry," I say, as sympathetically as I can. "If you lost something you can pick it up here in the morning."

"No, no, you don't understand. I left me little girl's stuffed animal here this morning and Ihave to get it because she can't sleep without it. He gestures toward his torso, and I see a very cranky toddler strapped into a baby carrier.

I unlock the doors again, and he shakes my hand hurriedly.

"Thank, you thank you, thank you."

"It's no problem..."

"Jack. It's nice too meet you, or it would be if the whole thing wasn't going on."

"It's no problem, Jack. By the way, I'm Mark. Need any help finding that stuffed animal?"

"I could use some help..."

"Say no more."

After a good ten minutes of scouring the library, we finally find "ellie" under a bookshelf in the childrens section.

"Thank you so much again, Mark."

"It was no problem. Have a good night."

He rushes off into the night.

Curiouser and curiouser.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Speaking of books, all books mentioned in this chapter are wonderful and you should read them.
> 
> (and yes, mark likes to read gay romances)


	5. sparked: part five (mark)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hello everybody, my name is raez and welcome to a new chapter!

A dad with 2 kids who is obviously inexperienced. I wonder what happened. Never mind. It's too fuckin' late for this.

But of course my brain keeps on running. So, if he's single, I wonder what happened with his wife (husband? partner?). Why was his daughter asking about books about gay people? If he was gay, it would be a dream come true...

Shh, Mark, quiet your mind. No wet dreams tonight. You need a full eight hours of sleep. But soon, I'm too hyped up by the thought of Jack and just decide to read. I pull out my phone and and . I don't have any fandoms other than total drama. Pretty basic, I know, but my stories have a few hits, so that gives me a little gratification.

Just for fun, I decide to pull up a new doc and write a random au about me and Jack. I know that it's nonsense, shipping myself with someone and writing about it like a creep but fuck it.

2 hours later, I have almost 2,000 words of fluff, and I'm ready to post. Here goes nothing...

Alright Mark, you're now down to 5ish hours of sleep. Get your ass to bed. I comply and close my eyes to dreams of Jack. (oh shit, here we go again)

I wake up to a buzz near my head, and instinctively swat at a nonexistent bee. Wait. that's not a bee, that's my phone! What if it's one of my long lost friends? What the fuck? It's from Wattpad.

Holy shit...40 views? And in only a few hours? It's more than I've had on all my stories combined on here. I'm checking out the stats, and I'm actually pretty high up in the au category because I got so many votes. I guess I'll have to keep on writing then, just to please my readers though...definitely not because of Jack. I wonder if he'll be back at the library today? The thought of that makes me just leap out of bed, and hop in the shower, ready to sprint to the library if I have to.

On the way there, I check the comments, all of which are really nice, asking if I can write more, and lots are related to how well I wrote, I guess. This has also kickstarted attention for some of my other stories, which is great, because I feel like they deserve to be noticed too (hinta hinta winka winka).

This all feels so great. Maybe it would be fun to be a writer. As I approach the doors, I see Jack!!!!!!

He's outside, in the little splash park by the library. (if you don't know what a splash park is it's basically just a little place full of cool water things like sprinklers and stuff.)

And heavens to murgatroyd, he's only wearing trunks, spinning his little girl around under the sprinklers. Shit. I'm blushing just looking at him, and he's noticed me. Senpai noticed me! I blush more and wave, trying not look like I've been spying on him and his perfect bod for much longer than the normal time, unlocking the library and walking in briskly.

A few moments later, he walks in (thankfully, or not) wearing a shirt as per the library's policy.

"Clara? Where ya at?"

"I'm up in the treehouse, Dad."

In our wonderful 'brary, we have this cool wooden treehouse, and although Clara looks to be in her teens, why shouldn't she be up there? I've been up there after hours and it truly is a place where time doesn't really exist. It's so calm, it's almost otherworldly to read in there.

"Hey, I forgot your name. I'm really sorry, I have bad short term memory. Thank you for your help last night," he says. "Also, could you possibly help me find Clara?"

"Don't worry, my name's Mark, and of course I help ya get to the treehouse." By the way, I wrote fanfiction about us last night. But I only say that in my head, because ya know. Impressions and normal society.

I lead him to the treehouse and Clara pops her head out of one of the cutouts.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I say. "I had a big head just like you as a kid, and I got it stuck in one of those when we visited."

"No way!" Her eyes widen and she quickly pulls her head out.

Fuck. Don't think about pulling out with Jack nearby.

Clara interrupts my thoughts.

"I think I have you beat. My mom used to cut the collars out of my pajamas 'cause my head wouldn't fit through."

I notice Jack wince at the mention of Clara's mom, and try to change the subject to me.

"Huh, we must be two birds of a feather, becuase guss what? My mom did that too."

She laughs.

"So, I finished a gentleman's guide to vice and virtue,and it DID change my opinion on the historical fiction genre. Is it a series?"

"You bet," I say as I hand her the newest installment."

"Yayyyyyyyyyy!"

"Have fun," I say as I check her books and Jack out simultaneously.

After they leave, I pop open a new private tab (no not to watch porn you dirty minded freaks) and start searching up ways to find out if someone is gay, because I will now officially announce it: I have a huge crush on Jack (soon to know the last name). 

Looking at my fanfiction, I now have 50 views. 50! 

MIght as well start a new chapter, why not?.

The cleverly named characters (Mark and Jack) Are going on a picnic. Yes, I know it's cliche, but I love picnics. There's just something so nice about being with someone you admire and eating. Hmm, what kind of food. I decide to put spaghetti, because it's the most romantic thing EVER, and it's a fanfiction, so anything can happen.

Just for good measure, I pop in a lady and the tramp kiss to appease those waiting for something of the nature and publish it.

Well, I wonder if people will be too mad that it's going so fast. I sure hope not...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for 100 reads, I had no idea this would actually blow up, and have a wonderful evening! Make sure to punch that kudos button in the face like a boss) and I'll see all you kiddos in the next chapter!
> 
> update: im blowing bubbles because bubbles
> 
> another update: who fuckin cares about schedules i'll update whenever I want


	6. Questions for you wonderful people.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! This is just a chapter of questions. I'd appreciate it if you'd answer, but you don't have to.

So, as you can tell by the chapter name and summary, these are questions I'd like to as you, because I am still very new to writing (I only started in about May). Here we go!  
I will be replying to each and every one of you and changing whatever I deem needs to be changed.

1). How's my writing style? Does it fit or is there anything about it that needs to be changed?  
2). Are you guys ok with the references I put in?  
3). Is the rating right?  
4). Do my little author's notes bother anyone?  
5). IS THE CHAPTER LENGTH RIGHT? TOO LONG? TOO SHORT?  
6). What could I do to improve my story?

Thank you all so much, you're wonderful readers, and I can't wait to keep on writing this!


	7. sparked: part six (mark)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody, my name is raez, and welcome to a new chapter, but first: an announcement. So, I have I think 4-5 collabs lined up right now, which is more than I've ever dreamed of, but if you think our writing styles would work together and would like to collab with me, I'm ready. Head over to my collab info, which will give you a little more information and a few different ways to contact me. Make sure to punch that kudos button in the face (like a boss) and as always, I will see you all in the next chapter!

For the second night in a row I wake up to my phone. It's only the second day, but I guess my stories are more viewed at night, and I already have 50 more hits? The comments poured in, and people are loving it, which I'm kind of surprised about. I've really only been writing for a few months.

I check rankings, and my work has already steadily moved it's way up the list in original works.

TODAY IS GONNA BE A GOOD DAY!

I hop in the shower, with the song "Mr. Blue Sky" as my soundtrack. I really hope Jack is at the library today...

I've managed to figure out his schedule a little, which is that he's here on Mondays and Wednesdays, and that's also (completely coincidental) the days I update my fanfic. I wonder if people are re-reading just to make sure they're caught up before Ipost the next chapter. I already have the schedule set, but they're only two chapters out.

It's so pretty outside. the sun is shining, birds are singing, and I sound like a lovesick teen writing a crappy romance novel, which I guess is true, at least partly. I mean, look at me, I'm practically SKIPPING, which I haven't done since grade school.

That one random bird lady that's always waiting for me in the morning for access to the public computers we have sizes me up.

"Well, young man, you look happier than normal today."

"Thanks Mindy. Computer 7 is all yours." She smiles and heads in, followed by the stream of regulars: soccer mom who force their kids to read, summer reading program kids, the nerds, and the ones that come for the the free wifi. Well, there is another type that I'm hoping to see today, one of the few who actually love reading, and dedicate so much of their time to it that they need to come twice a week.

This person also happens to have a sexy green haired man for a father that I'm really hoping to talk to...

She bursts in at 10:15, and speak of the devil, it's Jack. He's looking downright SMEXY in a dark blue v-neck and...are those flamingo shorts? trunks? Probably the latter because he might be going to the splash park after this. Shit...I have story time. 

I call out to Clara "Hey, I'll help ya out after story time!"

After going through the motions and trying not to stare too much at Jack, it's finally over, and I walk over to help out Clara. She smiles when she sees me, and presents the whole series, as it only took her the weekend to read. I am constantly amazed by how superhuman her reading skills are. I wonder if it was Jack who inspired it in her?

I check out the next series for her one by Becky Albertalli called "Simon vs the homo sapiens agenda" and she practically squeals. I muster the sultriest voice I possibly can and ask Jack

"So Mr....what was it again?"

He...blushes?

"McLoughlin."

"So Mr. McLoughlin, I hope you don't leave behind her stuffed animal again."

Clara elbows her dad.

"Did you tell him about Ellie?"

"No, of course not. I would never tell him about the stuffed elephant you've slept with since you were born."

"Daaaaad" she says, and laughs. "Come on, let's just get to the splash park. It's hot outside!" 

It is indeed hot outside, because there Jack is, pulling off his shirt in order to frolic in the sprinklers with his children. I wish I were there...

So I pull of a private tab to watch gay po-....no to write more of the fanfic dipshit.

The rest of the day goes pretty slow, so I post a new chapter of the fic and end up reading quite a lot more in the free time I have. We have such a wonderful team of library volunteer, and some of them actually like to shelve, which means that I get more time to read...fanfic.

The problem with me is that I absorb all that I read , and I feel like if there's a scene that I really like in a different fic, I might just keep it in my brain and accidentally plagiarize. The thought of that is making me nervous alone, so I pull up the fic, desperately searching for any signs that someone has seen it. Nope...no additional views. maybe I just had too high of expectations...

And then it's just a normal day. But halfway through it I suddenly feel like getting some chocolate scented bubbles, because those are wonderful. I con't blow them in the library, but maybe I can do it outside and observe Jack.

I let Gina, the other librarian, know that I'm taking my lunch break and walk out of the building towards the grocery. Don't know why but suddenly I feel like everyone is watching me do nothing but walk. 

And then everything goes out of my head, and I forget how to walk, and I trip. How the fuck can I trip on my own feet? 

Jack is coming over with his girls. "Mark, are you ok? You look like you fell pretty hard."

"Yeah, I'm fine. I think it't just my shoes." Lie. Complete fucking lie. I've worn these shoes every day for the past 2 years. It's just you Jack. You make me trip over my own feet.

"So, where are you heading on this fine day?"

"To the store. For some reason I really want bubbles. Come on, they're bubbles."

"Maybe Elle would like some?"

The baby smiles with no teeth and giggles.

"Buh!"

"Looks like bubbles it is. Could you get some for us? I don't really feel like leaving and coming back, especially with these troublemakers."

"The last time dad took us both to the store we ended up cart racing. Then we got kicked out..." Clara smiles sheepishly. "I didn't mean to run Mrs. Doon over, I just wanted to win. YOU WERE THE PERSON WHO STARTED IT!"

Now it's Jack's turn to be embarrassed. "Ok, maybe I did start it, but you were the one who agreed to it. Sorry for taking up your time, Mark. GO GET THOSE BUBBLES!"

I raise my fist heroically, and speed walk to the store.

Dollar tree is the best. I get some cheap ass squirt guns there. Hopefully if I bribe Jack with squirt guns and wait...they don't have the scented bubbles? BUT THEY'RE ALWAYS HERE. Fine...I guess I'll just have to ASK THE MANAGER.

I walk up to the cashier. "Hey, do you guys still have those awesome scented bubbles?"

"Actually they discontinued them in china, so we don't really have them here anymore, but I have a stash. 2 for 12$."

"TWELVE DOLLARS?"

"Well you could try to find them somewhere else, but I doubt you could, and if you did they'd be more expensive."

I consider this. Do I really wanna spend 12 dollars on Jack?

"I'll take 'em"

I cough up the cash and whatever, then skedaddle out of there before someone suspects me of a drug deal. Goddammit. the lines I'd cross to get a pack of bubbles for someone who probably isn't even gay.

I hustle back to the library, because my hour of lunch break is almost halfway up.

Jack is still there, and jumps up when he sees me. Then he rearranges his face, making it expressionless.

I pull the bubble contraband out of my pocket and hand one of them to Clara, keeping one for myself.

"Hey now," Jack says. "Isn't that one for me?"

"No!" I start running towards the playground.

"HEY I WANT THE BUBBLES."

I pull out the wand and attempt to blow bubbles into his beautiful blue eyes. 

"Agh, no!" he screams, waving his hands and screaming. "I'm gonna get you back for that!" he screams.

" YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIIIIIIVE."

He giggles and grabs my arm. 

"HA I GOT YOU!"

"Crudoodles!"

He then proceeds to take the deepest breath you've ever seen and completely SHOWER ME IN BUBBLES. Like, hundreds of bubbles. An entire pound of bubbles.

He still hasn't let go of my arm, and starts running toward the slide. 

"Please tell me we're not going on the slide."

"WE'RE GOING ON THE SLIDE."

"Oh no."

I can already envision the headline: 2 men stuck in a mini slide. What stupid motherfuckers.

"Jack, I'm not going to fit. I'm just too ripped." 

He laughs. "Oh it's fine. I've done it hundreds of times before."

I look at the outside world one more time, and just see Clara and Elle playing, completely ignoring their high-energy father and popping bubbles together like this happens everyday.

Jack and I are sitting next to each other in the tube of the slide, and when he pushes off we move about 2 inches.

"See, I told you this would happen."

"Oh, I knew it would. I've done this before."

"And you failed to tell me you've gotten stuck in this slide before?!"

"Nope, just didn't want to."

So..we're stuck in a slide and holy shit, my watch says it's time to go back to the library because I'm almost 5 minutes late.

"Ok, how do we get out?"

"Well, normally I bring baby oil, but since I don't have that today..."

"Get on with it."

"If we free up the space by say, laying on top of each other..."

He blushes so deep I can feel the heat radiating off of his face, and I can feel myself blushing too. Well, I guess what needs to be done needs to be done...

I roll over.

"Sorry if I'm crushing you bitch, you just gotta roll with it," I say, and attempt to push us down. We actually move this time, so I keep on going. The space keeps on getting tighter, and my nose is touching his, and fuck. stop that. Just get us out of the slide.

I see the light at the end of the tunnel and thank god, now we're out. Jack just looks at me.

"Good job hero man. I've spent way too much time here though, and I gotta get the girls home."

"Alright Jack, I gotta go NOW. Your stupid trick made me late. See ya whenever."

"BYE MARK!" he screams, and Clara joins in.

They all wave, and I smile as I run back towards the library. I pop my head into Gina's office.

"Sorry I'm so late Gina, I got held up."

"It's fine. It's not like we're all that busy anyways."

As soon as she says that I take a look outside, and whaddya know, it's suddenly busy. Ugh. this is gonna be a while.

Gina is outta here at 4, so I have to lock up yet again. I hear footsteps on the pavement behind me, and turn around. Why is Jack here? 

"Hey Mark, I forgot to ask you today, but...would you maybe want to go out tonight?"

Part of me screams, but I manage to collect myself. "Y-yeah. I'd love to."

"Great. Tomorrow, 5:30? I'll pick you up here, I already have the location figured out. Here, give me your number. I'll text you the dress code."

"There's a dress code? Please don't tell me I'm going to a bachlorette party or something."

"We'll see Mark, we'll see," he whispers ominously as he walks away.

I'm so goddamn excited for tomorrow


	8. sparked: part seven (mark)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK!!!! School is so fucking hard to handle, but I'm gonna KEEP ON POSTING CHAPTERS! THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR WONDERFUL SUPPORT!!!!!!!  
love ya all,  
-raez

So...I have a date with Jack and I also have a girlfriend. This will certainly go down well. Ya know, oh hey Jack, Ii have a date with you and this right here is Lena. And her fuckin parents will come along, like they do on all of her dates, just to make sure I don’t rape her or something, after I’ve been the kindest guy for 21 FUCKING YEARS.

I’ve been putting this off for a few years, but I guess it’s time. I gotta stand up to her. I pull out my phone, dialing Lena. She answers quickly. “Mark, I’m really in the middle of something important right now.”

“I have something important to tell you too.”

“ARE YOU PROPOSING???? YES YES YES!”

“Actually, no not that. I’m….”

“Spit it out,” she says venomously.

My voice trembles. “I’m...I’m breaking up with you,” I say, instilling some confidence in myself.

“Ok,” she simply says, and hangs up, rather abruptly.

Wow that was a lot easier than I thought it would be. Who knew that she would take it so well? Either way, her parents wouldn’t. Shit. What if they see me with Jack? This is gonna be hard. Really hard. Like incredibly hard. Just like me.

I’m too distracted…

It’s Thursday, which means that Jack isn’t going to be here today, but I do see Clara come in with a lady in her 20’s. Maybe a sitter?

“Hey Mr. F. I wanna new book.”

“Sounds good. Have you read Simon vs. The Homo Sapiens Agenda yet?”

“No.”

“OH HO HO! You’ll have to try it then, it’s another one of my favorites.” I grab a copy that I oh so conveniently kept under the counter waiting for this moment, and check it out for her.”

“I know about you and dad’s date.”

“It’s not a date.”

“Oh please. I’m young but I wasn’t born yesterday. It’s a date.”

“Fine….it’s a date. Be quieter though, every single person in this library looks waaaay too interested in our conversation.” I gotta make sure that Lena’s parents don’t figure out about this too.

“Hope you enjoy your book,” I say, way too cheerily, shooting her a look.

She rolls her eyes and sashays out, but turns around and runs back in.

“Wait Mark, my dad wants your number.”

“Couldn’t you have done this earlier?”

“Nope. Had to cause as much of a scene as possible.”

I stop myself from cursing, but relinquish my number and she skips out.

My heart just beats faster at the anticipation of tonight. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!  
Get to see Jack, get to eat. Where are we going? What do I wear? HOW DO I ACT?!?!? FUCK FUCK FUCK! Um...my panicking mind grasps something...maybe Alea can help? She owes me a favor after all. I text her.

ALEA I NEED HELP  
I HAVE A DATE.  
I don’t know what to   
and I’m freaking out.

It’s ok. Whaddya need?

Dress code?  
Well, I obviously don’t  
know, but I bet he does.

Do you have his number?

No

Well, did you give yours  
to him?

His daughter came  
in and asked for him

Oh you’re good then.  
I‘m sure he’ll text. Gotta go!

Bye

Since when did Alea become the master of relationships? Is this going to be a relationship or does Jack just want me as a friend? The problem is that I broke up with Lena to take this chance and if it was all on a whim...But it wasn’t a good relationship. I wasn’t happy, and her parents were weird it was for the best. I feel kinda bad right now, but I mean, I don’t think that if I had I had kids they’d be able to deal with the monstrosities that were their grandparents. Like:

“Daddy, why does Nana never smile?”

“Well sweetie, it’s not polite to ask, so I never did, and to be honest, I don’t know.”

“It scares me.”

“Me too sweetie, me too.”

I shudder. Let’s be glad that never happened. I mean, they took all the emotion, all of the feelings out of a proposal. You know what? Fuck my updating shedule I’m gonna post another chapter. DOOOOOO DOOOOOO DOOOOOO. There. Posted. Readers should be semi-happy. 

The day drags on like when you have nothing to do at school. I’m heading home when my phone buzzes, and it’s a text from an unknown number. 

hey there mark! less than   
an hour till liftoff!

can’t wait! what should  
i wear?

anything you want, it’s  
not formal. see you at   
Benny’s at 7 ;)

see you then!

I’m so excited to do this. I wish I really knew if it was a date or if he just wants to be friends.

When I lock up and get home, I decide on just some nice jeans and this cool hot dog with legs t-shirt I have. He did say causal…

At the last moment I just switch to a nice collared shirt. Better to be safe than sorry I guess.

Shit. I’m gonna be late if I stand here and contemplate my clothing decisions. I start off to...Benny’s I think it was? Pulling up some directions on my phone, I instantly recognize the bright blue awning I’ve passed on the way to the library every day. Actually, It looks like they have pretty good reviews, so I think it’s gonna be worth it.

When I “finally” get there, Jack’s waiting, and I blush, because shit I should’ve managed my time better. 

He crosses his legs and steeples his fingers..

“I’ve been waiting…”

“Boy thanks; as if I didn’t already know I was late.”

“Aww it's ok. Was it hard to find parking?”

“No, I walked. I was having a hard time figuring out what to wear.” Why would you say that Mark? He doesn’t need to know how awkward you are.

“Oh, it’s fine, and you look really nice.”

“You too.”

Wow...we don’t really have anything to talk about. Quick, conversation starter, Mark.

“Do you like writing?” I blurt out.

“I do, what about you?”

“I love writing. I’m actually working on a novel right now for NANOWRIMO.”

“Oh, NANOWRIMO, the bane of my existence. I tried it one year and I couldn’t even write 10,000 words.”

That really segways us into this awesome conversation about writing and all the little nooks, crannies, and tips we know. Of course he writes, this man is perfect.

I also manage to figure out he likes cookies, and got a degree in...hotel management?

“That’s certainly an interesting major. How did you ever come about it?”

“I just looked around and found the one that I thought was the funniest.”

“Wow. Interesting way to pick…”

I tell him all about how my love of reading led me to start working at the library.

“What do you like to read?”

“Well...um...books like “Carry on”, and others like it.” I blush.

“I wouldn’t have really pegged you as a gay romance type,” he remarks. “You seem more like a happily ever after fairy tale type of guy.”

“You haven’t seen me yet buddy, I’m far from fairy-tale.”

“Sounds like destiny. I’m not perfect either.”

He’s staring at me intensely, but somehow I don’t feel motivated to look away like I normally do when faced with a smolder.

Then my fucking phone rings.

It’s Jacob, and of course it’s right now that I have to go save people.

“Hey Jack, something came up...I gotta go.”

“Wait, what? Mark! Come back!” His voice fades in the distance as I start running towards the station.

God, if i’m late again Jacob might just kill me.

I pull out my phone to text Alea but decide against it because I’m almost at the station.

Jacob yells at me when I come in. “Listen man, I know you walk, but your apartment isn’t-”

“Actually Jacob, I was on a date.”

That silences him and I smile, somewhat satisfied by my petty little victory.

I grab my suit, and we head off to the fire, which is waaaaay too close to my house for comfort. 

“Ok Mark, you’ve been upgraded,” Jacob explains. “It’s because of your heroism we’ve decided to let you onto the rescue team. Your off probation now.”

“Ok…”  
“What are you waiting for? It’s time to go in now.”

“Let’s go!”

The front door isn’t locked and when I open it, a piece of paper flutters out. I stuff it in my pocket, and run in.”

“Hello? Hello? Is anyone there?”

I hear some distant...squeaking? and run towards it. There’s a cage with 2 cute little guinea pigs inside of it, and I grab those and leave, since no one else seems to be in here.

When I run out, it looks like the little piggies are safe and the family was already out, which is a relief. I wonder…? No. Not right now.

I hand over the guinea pigs to the kids, and walk back to the truck. Once we’re back at the station, I get out of my suit and Jacob walks over and starts talking to me.

“Hey man, sorry I interrupted your date. Who was the lucky, or in this case unlucky lady.”

“Well, he was Jack.”

“Oh, I feel like I know him.”

“Yeah. But we were having a good time.”

His voice gets quieter and he says “We didn’t really need you. I just wanted to get you off your lazy ass.”

“It’s fine. He might still be there, so I’m gonna walk back.”

“Go get ‘im, man.”

“Aye, aye, captain.”

I start back on my walk to Benny’s but get a text from Jack. It was sent like 45 minutes ago but it’s from Jack.  
Hey mark i don’t know  
whats up but   
abandoning me on a date?  
not cool

I can’t bring myself to text him back, so I head to to the park. Not sure why I’m being so nostalgic but I want to go down that slide. And guess who’s there? The one, the only, Jack, that I abandoned on our first date. He’s sitting there looking depressed on a swing, like a scene from a movie.

He startles when I walk up to him.

“Hey,” I say softly.

“Hi.”

“I can explain if you’re willing to listen.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“Ok, would you believe me if I told you I was a volunteer firefighter and was called by my supervisor to go into a burning building and rescue some guinea pigs?”

“No.”

“Well, fuck. That’s the truth. I’m sorry I had to leave, but otherwise I’d get kicked out.”

“Ohhhh noooooo, little Mark would get kicked out.”

“Asshole.”

“It’s true. That’s what you sound like.”

“My voice is like 20 octaves lower than yours.”

He strains his voice, trying to make it as low as mine, but it doesn’t work.

“Well, fuck.”

“HA I GOT YOU BEAT BITCH.”

“Fine, I’ll admit it. But I’m cuter.”

“Can’t agree with you on that.”

“Oh, pwease. I’m aDOWabwe.”

I roll my eyes.

“Sorry I abandoned you. Let’s hug it out?”

“Ok.”

We embrace, and I’m feeling better already.

“Ok Mr. Firefighter, can we reschedule our first second date?”

“Yes. How bout next weekend, same place same time?”

“Sure. Tell your supervisor not to disturb you though.”

“Ok…”

We say our goodbyes and head home. I’m almost to my apartment when I realize I never read the paper I stuck in my pocket. Oh well. Next time I suppose...


	9. sparked: part eight (mark)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, this is about 2,000 words I think? Anyways, I had a great time writing it and hope you enjoy too. My updating schedule is gonna be about once a week, which should be pretty damn regular, but I'm still getting used to school and I have a few BIIIIIIIG things goin' on, all of which you shall benefit from...  
AAAAAANYWAYS, have a good evening or day or whatever it is where you are! :3  
-raez

I pull the piece of paper out of my pocket. It could be nothing but a simple letter, or grocery list, but it could be clue as to why the fires are happening. We interviewed the homeowners and they all have basically nothing in common except this random correlation to my house where they got closer every time.

Either way, this could be lead, or a grocery list. I couldn't bear the excitement any more and unfolded the sheet of meticulously creased paper.

We know what you did. Fix it or else.

-the pharaohs 

What did I do that the writer knows about? Or was it not meant for me? Part of some made up game?

But what if it isn't. What could I have done that this person or these people didn't like? Surely it couldn't have been because of...Jack?

What is this is a bunch of crazy homophobes that want revenge?

I'm asking too many questions. What I should be doing is writing. This would be a perfect opportunity to add some action to my story, because like any good writer, I draw on things in the real world for my inspiration.

Hmmm. I pop on a record for one of my favorite bands, the lovin' spoonful, and yes, I know what you're thinking. I may be poor, but my record obsession fuels me to spend ungodly amounts of money on little plastic discs. I grab my old-ass computer and start writing, but of course I spice it up a little bit. What if it turns out that...Jack is a werewolf and is trying not to kill me at any second. What if we're on a date and to stop him from killing me I bribe him with ham sandwiches? 

I rub my hands and cackle evilly. MY CHARACTERS ARE UNDER MY POWER. MARK IN THE STORY SHALL BE SUAVE, AND NOT ABANDON JACK ON THEIR FIRST DATE, (even if he is a werewolf).

It's funny how writing basically makes you a god. I can feel the power coursing through my veins, but no, that's just my coffee. Never mind. I think a lack of sleep is messing with my head. But that's besides the point. I finish writing the chapter, and one chapter only, and proceed to head upstairs and immediately pass out face-first on my bed. It's been a long day, and I have work tomorrow morning too...

I wake up at 5 in the morning. Of course my exhausted body doesn't feel like functioning right now, so I lay in bed, drifting in and out of sleep.

When I finally manage to lift my head off of my pillow, it's 5:43, and I don't feel any better that I did 45ish minutes ago. At least I have lots of extra time to get my morning routine done...?

I'm about to shave when a wave of exhaustion hits me in the face and I realize how few hours of sleep I'm dealing with. Maybe just a small nap...? 

No Mark, you're an adult. It's just a little sleep deprivation, you can deal with that. Although a nice little power nap might help.

I then proceed to pass out in what I can assure is the most graceful way possible.

I wake up groggy and disoriented. Where am I? Oh. On the toilet...holding a razor?

That's right. I was shaving and then I guess I just fell asleep. That's not normally me though, I can't ever nap. It's probably just lack of sleep making me pass out randomly, right?

How long was I out is the real question here.

HOLY SHIT...IT'S ALREADY 9:45.

Damn. That wasn't a normal power nap.

Alright. Let's get crackin and head to the library. I'm almost running as I attempt to get there on time, and I arrive breathless at 9:57.

Chugging my coffee as I open the doors, I just manage to avoid stepping on a little kid's foot but accidentally bump into someone walking into the library. I mutter a 'sorry" and attempt to steer myself away from them, but the grab my shoulders and look at me.

"Hey there Mark."

Dammit Karen, today isn't the fucking day.

"Hi Karen. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm doing great. But you know who isn't? LENA."

She infuses so much venom into this last word that it astonishes me she hasn't melted a hole in the floor or something.

"So...you were supposed to propose but broke up with my darling little girl instead? And I hear from my sources that you were on a date? With another man? Shame on you, the same day..."

Damn. Where ARE this woman's sources, cause there was no one that would really blow me out of the closet in that diner, right?

Thinking back to the night, I can't really remember any faces, but I feel like I might have even seen Karen in the corner, putting on sunglasses and pretending to go incognito. That has to be it, because almost no one else was there.

Karen was still talking after she got mad at me for going on a date on the same day, but I really just zoned out.

But how does she have "eyes everywhere," as she just said. That would basically be impossible unless...no. They just say he was a legend, lurking under porches, and grabbing ankles in the dead of night.

Either way, I'm definitely going to have to watch my back. Don't want Karen going all psycho one night and stabbing me or something.

As I'm robotically checking in books, a cover I can remember pops into view. It's "Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda" and since we only have one copy of it in the library, I look around for lara, who I see with the lady who I think is her sitter.

Without speaking, I motion over Clara and hand her the second book that I already checked out into her account.

"You know we too well," and I smile, ignoring the sitter batting her eyelashes at me.

"Hey Mr. F, how was your date with my dad last night?"

I almost spit out the coffee I was about to swallow and I'm pleased by the fact that the sitter abruptly stops l trying to flirt with me.

"Well CLara, I'm also a part time firefighter and I got called away at the absolute worst time, so I couldn't even get half an hour into it, unfortunately."

"Oof. That does sound bad. Eh, maybe your second first date with him will be better."

"I sure hope so!"

Ugh, Clara is really just a nice addition to my day. It's like she sparks my spice for life. But you know who she gets it from? Her dad. Even one glimpse of him gets my heart beating faster, even though it's kind of an adverse effect, because he distracts me more than helping me.

My fanfiction is still reeling in the hits, and that really makes me happy too when I check it on my lunch break. Apparently people liked the date, but thought it was too "unrealistic". Oh I can fix that...I may be tired but you can bet your ass I want to please my readers. I smile while writing the most awkward chapter to ever grace any of my writing.

I'm clumsy, Jack's voice cracks like shit, and we're both the most awkward but also adorable beans. It's almost like a recreation of what happened but a lot less awkward, because I'm not putting my embarrassment on display for anyone *cough cough* JACK to see. If he finds this, I'm not sure what I'd do. The thought of it is giving me a little anxiety, so I close out the tab after publishing the new chapter. 

"Oh Mr. Sun, Sun, Mr. golden sun, please shine down me!"

A chorus of little voices finishes our sun song with me, and as we sing the goodbye song, I'm wondering why Jack isn't here, just for the toddler class. As the little ones are giving me the shaky eggs they love so much back, I'm hatching a plan.

On my lunch break, I run out and grab a single rainbow hydrangea, which have been my favorite flowers since I was a kid. In the woods near my house, someone had apparently tossed some seeds, and in the middle of towering oaks and slender birches, a beautiful green bush covered in these flowers waved gently.

They were me and my brother's go to presents for mothers day, and she always seemed so excited to have that little bit of beauty on our table.

I wet a paper towel and wrap it around the bottom of the flower, then cover the paper towel with tinfoil and hope to god it'll stay fresh til I get where I need to go. Ugh. It's only 4 more hours until we close, but each minute seems to drag on for eons.

Gina taps me on the shoulder and I jump.

"Waiting for someone?"

"Nah, just ready to get off."

"Sorry my guy, but I unfortunately can't today. The library is poppin', as you kids like to say."

"Gina, no 'kid' I know has ever said that. I think you're a couple decades behind."

She swats me with "Murder On the Orient Express," and fake scowls.

SHe's about to keep on talking to me, but sees the line that's formed in just 30 second of us talking and decides against it.

"Help the customers," is all she says as she disappears into the back again, probably to help out some really old person with a computer or something. I've tried to ask her if I could help, but she said she knew it better than any millennial did and she'd be damned before some hipster took her spot. 

To be honest with you, I think she may be a little wackadoodle. No sane person would ever decline progress and wear those weird alpaca fur sweaters she knits.

I don't know, maybe that's why I'm hear. I think we're all a little crazy, but you know, circumstances often bring out the worst in us.

Oh shit, I forgot. I have to text Alea.

do you know a   
jack? Nvm just call

kk

She's calling and I answer on the first ring.

"Ok. So, this Jack. Irish, beard, super cute?"

"That's the one."

"I know him. Whaddya need information on?"

"Where the dude works."

"Oh at the industrial hardware store. It's actually pretty close to the station."

She sends me a google map of the address and as soon as I get off work I sprint out of the library, just barely pausing to lock of. Safety may be our priority, but I have other things on my mind right now.

I double check to make sure that the hydrangea is in my bag, and make my way downtown, walking fast as I can.

10 minutes later, I'm there and I'm brimming with excitement. Alea texted me some more details and it turns out he's in the mirror department, which is really odd, because I didn't know they sold "industrial mirrors".

As I round the corner, I almost bump into Lena, who has some sort of rope. Maybe she's repairing her backyard hammock. It was so comfy... I give her an awkward smile and we both go on our merry way. When I see Jack, I give a little skip of joy and almost slip on the slick floor. Hmmm. That gives me an idea...

I run as fast as I can and slide up to Jack.

"Hey there good lookin', I brought you a present. According to my sources, you get off work right about now, so would you want to maybe go back to my place?"

He blushes and nods, and on the way to my apartment, we both chat about fandoms we're in, and it's interesting, because we're actually both into steven universe, and we have so many theories about the movie...I gesture grandly as I open the door of my apartment to...complete chaos?


	10. sparked: part nine (mark)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey kiddos, it's been a hectic frikkin' week. Here's a new chapter that Iwrote just this evening. Sorry I've been procrastinating. Hopefully I'm gonna try updating in the middle of every week, on Wednesday, and forcing myself to write, aka setting deadlines. Anyways, sorry about the long wait, and I hope you enjoy. ALSO-BIG THINGS COMING SOON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
-raez

When I walk into my apartment, it's completely trashed. I hear Jack gasp behind me, and I echo it. And trashed I mean dorm room after a frat party trashed. Phone after being put in a microwave trashed. Completely and utterly destroyed. It obviously wasn't me who did it, but who could it be...unless.

Well god fucking dammit, I found another piece of paper and it's my friendly neighborhood serial arsonists, the pharaohs. Not really sure why they chose that name, but hey, to each their own.

"Does your apartment normally look like a chimp went beserk in it?"

"Ha ha, very funny. I just happen to have a super active hamster. Wanna help clear off the couch?"

We proceed to push all of the trash littered on the sofa off of it, and sit down to further survey the damage.

"Well, good thing is I'm a neat freak so I'm willing to dedicate my time to help clean this up."

"I feel so honored to be in your company Jack, but I'm also hungry. Methinks some pizza is in order to help us clean."

"I concede. Sir Mark, your phone."

He kneels and presents my phone. You know that meme with the dude giving the sword to the really giant dude? It was like that.

I smile and dial up the pizza place as he stands up and stretches, revealing a little bit of stomach.

"Mark, control yourself."

"What?"

Oh shit. I thought I ssaid that in my head. 

"Nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Ok..."

He picks up a piece of shredded, literally SHREDDED, shirt.

"They really went all out. Who would want to do this to you?"

"Crazy ex-girlfriend? I hate to be a cliche but that actually might be it."

"Yeah right. I can understand if you don't want to talk about it."

I walk over and joins him, and he drops the subject. We both start clearing up ripped papers, shattered picture frames and...wait I need to make sure my file cabinet's ok. 

I run into my room, and thank god, the file cabinet on one of the walls is tipped over and a little dented but otherwise ok. Thank the gods. (I've always been a big Percy Jackson fan.)

MY ENTIRE FUCKING BED IS DESTROYED.

Mattress, comforter, everything. Ripped, slashed, UNFLUFFED. This seems to be done with more precision, almost like it spells something...OH WELL, I'll just have to look at that LATER ;D.

I smile at the fourth wall like this is all some sort of story, and skip out of the room.

"Well, I may not have bedsheets, but I DO have a cape," I say, tying them around my neck.

"I always wanted to be a superhero, you know, and save people's lives."

"really? I feel like if I had a super-power, I would just exploit it for my own good.. 'I'm saving these cupcakes from a horrible death!' and all." 

"Or constantly read people's mind to see what they thought of me."

"I've always been a romantic, so the idea of finding my true love through their thoughts has always delighted me."

"Ugh, I wish. I'm a cynic no matter how hard I try to believe in romance."

"See, you don;t remind me of one of those people," and just as I say it, the doorbell rings.

I open it up, and instead of the pizza delivery dude, it's Lena?

"What do you want?"

"My parents want me to talk to you. They say you should reconsider what you...WHO IS THAT?!?!?"

"Oh, that's Jack. He's really NICE." I know I'm being a mahor asshole, but what's really the big harm in doing it?

"Oh, so he's my replacement? You've turned fucking homo?"

"Actually-"

"No. I can't deal with this."

Jack pipes up from behind me. "I don't know who you are, but you're making Mark very upset-"

"OH SO I'M THE ONE MAKING MARK UPSET?!?! NO. I DON'T THINK SO. HE WAS THE ONE WHO BROKE OFF THE FUCKING ENGAGEMENT."

"First of all, we weren't engaged, and second of all you're being a psycho bitch. Go away before I call the police," I say in as calm of a voice as I can muster.

"Yeah, fuck off," is what I hear from behind me. Wow, he's got courage. I've felt her rage first hand, and he's holding up remarkably well. She slams the door in my face. Mental note: how does she do that from the outside? When I turn around I see Jack on the floor, curled up. I didn't hear him fall.

"Jack, are you ok?"

"No. It's my fault for her going all psycho in the first place. Everyone in this town knows I'm pansexual."

'It's ok. She's not gonna do anything except scream at us."

"I'm not sure-"

The doorbell rings again and cuts him off .

"I think that might actually be the pizza."

I walk over to the door and brace myself just in case for another round of Lena, but I get my pizza, and that makes me really happy.

Jack and I spend the evening talking and eating our pizza.

I manage to salvage a sleeping bag out of the wreckage of my apartment, and he happily agrees to sleep with me.

NOT "SLEEP WITH ME" YOU PERV. Simply sleep over.

I grab a two liter bottle of coke and some fun dip, and the party starts. We're both super jazzed from the fun dip and coke, so we decide to have a pillow fight, but the sugar crash hits, and soon we're both exhausted.

I have a brilliant idea that could possibly involve him falling asleep against me *internal excited screaming* so I suggest we watch "The princess bride" on the remains of my couch. God damn, I'm going to have to file so many claims for all the shit they trashed. Stupid ass pharaohs. Anyways, back to the princess bride. I know it's a weird title for a movie, but it's so good. I watched it all throughout my childhood, and well past that. It's really been my go to. 

I make Jack and I a little "nest" of pillows and the like, and we settle in for the movie, but not before I realize that we don't have popcorn. That's an issue that needs to be solved, so I leave Jack on the sofa and make some popcorn. As I watch the bag puff up in the microwave, I think about how I'm so ok with the damage they did. Probably because they didn't hurt anyone,. If someone had died in that fire, I don't think I could keep on going. The fact that someone died because of something did really freaks me out. Like, I don't think I'd be able to handle it.

I'm startled from my self-aware reverie by the microwave timer going off. Goddamit, I really hate when that happens.

Of course, there needs to be extra butter, so I melt some, and put extra salt on the popcorn too. Not sure why, but popcorn is a huge movie ritual for me. Like, I've bought and entire box and cooked it all just so I could find the right number of seconds to cook it perfectly. 

I drizzle the butter over and add an extra shake of salt for good look, then head out of the kitchenette to the living room.

"In case you didn't know, I'm something of a popcorn connoisseur."

"I can see." He smiles, and I throw a piece ant him, which he catches in his mouth...? Like, how does he have the mouth eye coordination for that? I could never...

"How can you do that?"

"Years of practice. I once went to a hibachi restaurant, and they did this thing with squash where they tossed it at you, and I caught every piece of it. They actually ran out of squash."

"That's somewhat terrifying, squash monster."

"Is that gonna be my nickname from now on?"

"Sure is, squash monster."

We watch as Westley dies at sea, and Buttercup is sad, and the inconceivable happens. I haven't watched this for maybe a year, and I've forgotten how good it is. It's funny how you can find things that you love, no matter the circumstances.

"So, did you like it?" I whisper to Jack as the end credits roll.

"Yeah, I really did." His eyes are half closed, and he looks like he can barely from coherent words.

"You wanna sleep now?"

"NO! I'm gonna beat you! Fire up some more movies."

I laugh and put on another one of my childhood favorites, Mary Poppins.

He and I both reach for more popcorn in a futile attempt to get more energy, and our hands brush. Damn. I blush, because of course I'mm like that, but whatever. He's out. I'm instantly hyperaware of him leaning against me, conked out rom his long night.

And even though I'm hyperaware of him breathing, right next to me, his head on my shoulder, the adrenaline doesn't rouse me as much as it should, and I can feel myself slowly slipping away, into the sweet embrace of sleep and dreams. Thank gods I don't have work tomorrow.

I wake up, and I feel arms around me. My first instinct is to shake them off of me, but then I realize: Jack. When I open my eyes, and see him basically sprawled on top of me, it takes all of my willpower not to scream about it. Not sure why, but the end credits of Mary Poppins are playing in the background. Ah well, it was fun while it lasted. I pull myself out from under him and set him down gently. That immediately rouses him. He looks at me sleepily and miles, but then an expression of horror is on his face. He rushes right past me.

"I'll text you later," is all he says as he sprints out of my door.


	11. flamed: part one (jack)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey kiddos, i'm ruling myself with an iron fist. hope you all enjoy the newest chapter I poured my blood, sweat, and tears into. GUESS WHAT? BIG THINGS COMING SOON!!!! (i'm aware I say that every single time, but hey, empty promises are just a bunch of lies, aren't they?  
if you get the "empty promises are just a bunch of lies" quote, i'll give you a little shoutout.  
hell, if you get any of the references, tell me in the comments and i'll give you a shoutout. why the hell not, i'm feeling generous. the format would be the quote and then who/when it was said  
sorry for that. hope all you guys enjoy this new chapter  
love,  
-raez

I wake up in Mark's arms, momentarily disoriented but otherwise ok. I can feel him moving around beside me, so I pretend to be asleep.

Then I think about the girls. the sitter (my mom) might still be there but Clara can be super persuasive when she wants to, and in my mom's time it wasn't unusual for kids like Clara to take care of their baby siblings.

Shit, shit, shit.

I tell Mark I'll text him later as I run out the door and basically jump over the 3 flights of stairs that take me down to the lobby. waving to the doorman, I push through the doors and out into the momentarily blinding sunlight.

Thank the gods I have a car, because I wouldn't want to be stuck with no car like Mark in a situation like this.

I'm in the car, and I'm desperately trying to remember the night before, but I'm so deliriously tired I don't think I can do it. I mean, I know we watched movies and ate really good popcorn he made in the ruins of his apartment, but other than that I can't remember specifics, such as the color shirt he wore or something like that.

When Ifinally get home, Clara is sitting waiting for me, with her best mom face on.

"WHERE WERE YOU???" she screams. "I stayed up the whole night watching a baby when. I could've been getting my beauty sleep."

"What about your nana?" 

"Oh, she abandoned me at about 1 when she decided it was time for her to get some shut eye."

"Shit...sorry. Shoot. I better have a talk with her about leaving you alone."

"Oh no, it's not that I just didn't want to take care of her. Ok listen, I'm stuck doing it when you're out, so I've learned way more abut changing dirty diapers than a child my age should."

"I can understand that, but those skills COULD be valuable at some point in your life."

"It doesn't matter Dad, I actually have friends now. Maybe I want to hang out with them instead of taking care of my baby sister while my dad is out the whole night who knows where."

"Really? You had to pull the out all night card?"

"To be fair, it did just happen. The tragic events are still fresh in my mind."

:Hilarious."

"No, but seriously, ever since mom left, my friends have really helped, and I've gained more too. They're great people, and I wish I could spend more time out of school with them."

"Maybe..."

"Thanks old man."

She smiles sweetly, handing the baby to me and making her escape upstairs. I plop down on the couch to watch some marvel movies, because they seen to calm down Elle.

"Hmm, what today little one, what today?"

She makes a very distinct point towards winter soldier, which is a little odd, but that might just be some sort of unnamed being influencing my thoughts like I'm some sort of character in a book.

Where are all these weird thoughts coming from?

I sink further into the couch cushions and snuggle up with Elle. She's already almost a year and a month, but she still isn't talking. I'm not worried though, all things come with a price, and time is most often that price. I wonder if she'll sound more like her mother, or me?

Well, obviously her mother because she's female (she hasn't specified otherwise), but I wonder if she'll be a loudmouth or a hot head.

You know, I've never really seen Mark get mad. Sure, he's been annoyed, but that was only at himself , because he fucked up our date. I wonder if he'd be a good father. He's so gentle, and kind.

See, this is what I mean, my train of thought has just been so derailed lately. It's because of one man with a smile that lights up the world. And just like that, my mind's gone. Mark, with my kids. Our kids. Helping Elle learn to read, learn to ride a bike, with homework, even though she might get frustrated with him. I don't even notice that she's peed herself until I feel her bite, rather gum, my hand and see she's a few ounces heavier in diaper weight.

The movie's over, and soon it's time for lunch. I really love kraft mac and cheese, and just to be fancy I make some homemade chicken noodle soup, which is really hard with a preteen and an almost toddler. After the "chicken soup ordeal of 2017" is over, I have a bright idea.

"So, Clara, would you and Elle care to accompany me to Mark's this afternoon? His apartment was trashed, and I don't think he has enough supplies to make anything other than really good popcorn."

She wiggles her eyebrows at me. "I think I know why it's trashed."

"I could ground you for that kind of innuendo, young lady."

"You wouldn't, you think I'm too funny to do that."

"You're not wrong. Get in the car."

We drive all the way (ALL THE WAAAAY) back to Mark's house with the chicken soup.

When we get up the three flights of stairs I'm panting because I'm carrying a chubby almost toddler on my chest. God, I look so stupid.

I text Mark that I'm right outside and have a surprise. He responds by opening the door as though he's been waiting for this moment all day.

Clara stage whispers to me "Isn't his apartment supposed to be trashed?"

He hears it, and replies "Yes, when your dad left it was, but I had lots of time to clean up while I was waiting for him to text me."

"Sick burn!" Clara yells, and gives him a high five, which he gleefully returns.

"You two are such children. I would venture to say even more childish than the one currently strapped to me."

Elle receives her cue with grace and starts babbling with enthusiasm. Mark smiles down at her, and even though I've noticed this before, I see again a look of wonder and adoration cover his face.

"Let me in and maybe you can hold her."

"Very well."

He ushers us in and I'm shocked at how clean the apartment is.

"Wow Mark, I would have pegged you as a slob."

"Oh, no, not me. I'm a complete neat freak. It's a blessing and a curse." 

"Well, Dad certainly isn't," Clara interrupts. "You should see his bedroom. I think there are a few empty milk glasses in there with so much mold they look like little gardens."

"Thanks for ratting me out kid."

"Any time."

Mark sets up Clara with Minecraft or something in his little office-like space (his apartment is pretty small), and settles down in the living room space with me.

"So, what's the real reason for you coming here. The people apparently decided to spare all of my food, except for an ominous message written in my raspberry jam, but that washed off real easy. Can I hold the little one now?"

I hand off Elle to Mark, and she doesn't spontaneously start crying so I guess we're all good. 

"So, to be completely honest, I wanted to talk to you some more. I had a great time last night, but I have to bring my kids along because they're mad I abandoned them last night. Sorry I didn't text you back by the way, I had to wrangle the little one AND the pre-teen who were both grumpy from the night." 

"Sounds fun."

"So, how 'bout you ask me any questions you have?"

"Any questions?"

"Any. I feel they're a really good conversation starter."

"Do you get all hot dudes stuck in that slide with you?"

"Oh god, don't bring up my embarrassing attempt at flirting."

He's turning a brilliant shade of red and I can feel my own face mirroring his.

"Oh, so that was only an attempt?"

"Yes. I've been pretty shy since-"

My heartbreaking backstory is interrupted by him bursting out laughing.

"You, Jack, shy? I definitely wouldn't have the guts to get stuck in a slide with a hot dude. Props to you, my dude."

Well Jack, you better be forward.

"Hey Mark, I don't know if this is too forward, but I asked you on a date for a reason. So I just wanted to know if you'd be interested on going with me on another. And maybe more after that?"

"Of course. I wouldn't go out with someone I didn't want to." He looks super guilty with that statement, so I press him just a little more.

"Are you sure?"

"Jack, I would kiss you right now if it wasn't for this adorable little baby."

"Hilarious."

Clara's voice interrupts. "First of all, ew, and second of all, I may have bought some minecoins. You know, digital currency, but for minecraft."

"How much," asks Mark.

"Oh you know, maybe 50 dollars worth."

I'm so furious, I could explode.

"Clara, you're going to have to repay him.

"Oh no Jack, I think CLara can do some housework to help clean up. Perhaps around here, Icould always use visitors, and I would love to spend more time with Elle.

"Aww man, I hate chores," Clara whines.

"Well," I snap back, even though I didn't intend to, "chores are for people who spend 50 dollars on virtual currency USING SOMEONE ELSE'S MONEY."

"Yeesh. No need to be so mean about it."

"So Mark, have you heard of the frickle?"

"What the heck is a frickle?"

"I'm so glad you asked. In middle school, I was in all sorts of hijinks with my friends, and we got in trouble a lot. So one day, I'm doing a presentation on pickles, and of course I bring in pickles, but no one person in my class likes pickles so I have an entire jar of pickles."

"Never thought I'd hear that sentence in my life."

"With this jar of pickles, I head to lunch, and as soon as I get there, my friends who apparently all love pickles, are just scarfing them all down and soon the entire jar is gone. So the jar is gone, and I have a brilliant idea. I grab a bad school french fry from my friend, and after every single on of my friends touches that fry, I put it in the jar. 'This is the frickle, I announce, it is sacred to eighth grade.' So yeah, that's how the frickle was born."

Mark gets a notification on his phone and glances down.

"Hey Jack, I just got called out for a fire. Your story was stupendous, but I have to go now."

"It's all good, bro. Have fun saving lives."

I grab my kids and skedaddle out. 

On the car ride home, I recall what he said about kissing me, and smile.

"If only you weren't there," I say to Elle.

Clara, in the back seat, asks me what I mean by that, but I pretend not to hear her.


	12. flamed: part two (jack)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **ATTENTION! There are gonna be scenes of extreme violence and possibly torture. No, it's not kink, I just like being unnecessarily violent. Just wanted to give y'all a warning...Also, there is some depersonalization due to extreme stress. If it is portrayed inaccurately, I'm really sorry.**

**ATTENTION! There are gonna be scenes of extreme violence and possibly torture. No, it's not kink, I just like being unnecessarily violent. Just wanted to give y'all a warning...Also, there is some depersonalization due to extreme stress. If it is portrayed inaccurately, I'm really sorry.**

Welcome to a day in my world. I wake up at 4 with my little baby girl, and then at 6 my other kid gets up. After I make them both breakfast and make sure the older one get on the bus on time. When I'm done with the rest of that, I basically just lounge around waiting for my newly retired mother to come and take car of Elle while I'm gone. Fortunately, that's during the school year, and it's only July-ish right now, so all I really do is take the girls to the library. I mean, reading is great for the mind, right?

You know, I've noticed him before, but never really too much. He seems pretty quiet, and with all those toddlers around Elle, I get aggravated fast. I barely have enough energy left over to drag Clara out of there. I'm a little bit of a reader, but I still can't believe that they're this much of voracious readers. I mean, Elle's already gobbling up "The very hungry caterpillar," and "Miss Mary Mack."

Maybe the kid'll be an english teacher someday.

It seems like I would more know about what Clara wanted to do, but I have absolutely no idea. Maybe she'd be a doctor? I can't predict her future, but I'm sure that whatever it is, it's set in concrete. She knows hat she wants to do, and she'll do anything to do it.

Woah...looks like the toddler hour is almost over. To be honest, I kind of zoned out when I realized Mark wasn't gonna be leading it.

Now that I think about it, where is Mark?

I text him but get no response, which is a little odd.

I'm in the park, gazing at the slide I got him stuck in, when my phone vibrates. I pull it out so quick I think I might get whiplash, and my heart leaps when it's Mark. Apparently it's his day off and would I maybe want to get ice cream.

He might not know I can't resist ice cream, so I text him back confirmation and immediately get way more pumped than I should. 

I mean, ice cream and Mark, amirite?

The only thing I can't understand is why he was with...Lena? Everyone knows her parents are psychos. I mean, when we had birthday parties in primary school, her parents insisted on coming and staying like they didn't trust her alone with other children her age. She seems to be shaping up just like them...

I'm heading to the library right now after wrestling my children into the car, (Clara is almost as unruly as Elle) and I'm wondering why Mark didn't just wait to ask me in person. I mean, he could probably wait just 15 more minutes and make it a little more personal.

I'm feeling really pissed off and I'm not sure why. It might be lack of sleep or just my normal irateness under the surface. I try to be as nice as I can all the time, but sometimes, I just snap.

I really have to pee, so I drop off Elle at the toddler playtime and head into the bathroom

But when I walk into the bathroom, I feel a sharp pain in the side of my neck.

I try to grab it, but I can't really move my arms. My legs collapse underneath me. What the fuck? I though stuff like this only happened in horror movies.

I see two masked faces looming over me, and then I black out.

I wake up to a smell of death and mildew in what appears to basement. I see possibly the same two masked figures, though my memories of them are more than just a little fuzzy.

Hmmm. This whole scene doesn't look like it's gonna play out well for me. Director, cut and rewrite the script. We need it to be more optimistic. Except that's not what it's gonna be like.

When I was a little kid, there was this nature reserve close to my house called nixon park, and I loved it. there were reptile exhibits, and all sorts of cool *real* stuffed animals, like bears and stuff. The thing I liked most though, was the gift shop. There were cool *fake* stuffed animals, and all sorts of other stuff like candy. Speaking of the candy they had, have you ever had an ant lollipop? I doubt you have, but it's a lollipop with whole ants in it. It's pretty damn gross, because the thoraxes get stuck in your throat, and that's not fun. It made me cough a lot.

So I actually kinda like them, just because they were so different, but I wasn't liking this basement. The story will make sense later, you'll see.

I'm in this basement, and the first thing I notice is the mold. Light tan mold/fungus on the ceiling, dripping with some sort of fungus liquid.

It's disgusting.

Secondly, I see all sorts of pincers, clamps, shovels, rakes, and implements of destruction planned, and hey, whaddya know, i'm tied up. That most likely means that I'm gonna be the one they're using all of these implements of destruction.

My feet are bare, and they're on the cool (and somewhat slimy) floor, so that means that they've been marinating in this gross fungus juice fore how long? Oh yes, that's right. They took my watch, so I can't see the time.

I call out " Hey, what's the time?"

"You don't need to know," one says, and the other adds on "You'll be in too much pain to care."

"What a wonderful welcome. It's like I'm at a hilton."

"What was that?" On of them asks, holding what appears to be a giant pair of scissors on my finger, which I try desperately to move but with no avail.

"Oh, nothing. Just pleasantries."

"That's what I thought."

The first speaker shines a super bright light in my eyes and I instinctively shy away from it.

But they're persistent and force my eyes open, making sure they burn my retinas to a crisp.

When they finally pull away, I blink my eyes repeatedly, trying to bring back some sense of vision. Black spots swim before my eyes and tears run down my cheeks.

I'm not really sure what they inspected me for. Maybe making sure I didn't have a camera on me or something?

They still have their masks on and it's bothering me, like, ok you kidnapped me, but I mean, take your hat off at the dinner table Timmy.

I'm talking to the masked people now, and it's confusing because I'm there.

Maybe I say something wrong, because one of them suddenly slaps me across the face, and I can almost feel the sting, like the sting of a bee. I stepped on a bee once, when I was a little kid, and 

It hurt so bad.

I was so surprised that the stinger wasn't bigger, it hurt so much.

Like I said, it looked like it stung, and a few seconds later a red handprint appears on my cheek.

Would it be a handprint or a gloveprint?

Because if they're wearing gloves, they technically aren't hands. they're gloves.

If you have gloves on, it's almost like you don't have hands. Your fingerprints are gone, so you don't have an identity. Who are you if your hands are just gloves?

Alternatively, I had a friend in high school named Aiden, and Aiden wore sweatshirts so much I didn't really know what he looked like without him. I was almost like he wasn't anything without it. Sometimes, something becomes so much of a part of your identity that you're not you without it.

Oh hey, look, they were holding a candle under my foot. Good thing I wasn't in there. My skin looked like it softened, then melted, then dripped. KNock knock, who's there? not Jack, not Jack. Cuckoo,cuckoo, in and out of the clock.

In and out of conscioussness.

My science teacher once said that if you sat in a bath for long enough, you skin would just fall off, because nature craves balance, and your skin absorbs so much water it basically turns to sludge.

It's funny, I never knew extreme heat could do that to. It looks like it might actually start to be working it's way to the bone. He's screaming, and his leg is kicking, and thank god I'm not here, I'm in the library, with Mark.

We're talking, and he swoops up Elle.

"Hey there little Elle girl. Couldn't wait to see me today, eh?"

She giggles with delight, grabbing his hands in hers.

I always thought he would be a great dad.

He pops her up onto his shoulders and tells her to hand on, which she does so accordingly. But what I'm not expecting is him dropping down on one knee and holing out a ring. Asking me ot be his for the end of time, or until the candle burns. Until the candle burns...?

I ask him what it means, but he doesn't answer. I ask him with repeated fervor, but he still doesn't answer, and it doesn't become clear to me what's happening until the wick comes into my view.

And then Elle goes, and Mark is screaming, and I...

I'm screaming and I'm trying to blow the candle out and it's not working. And I'm watching my beautiful family burn in front of me until they're gone, and it all goes boom.

Cuckoo, cuckoo, take your hat off at the table Timmy, the grownups are talking. Candles burn and bubble but none can steal the dawn as it recedes.

But people are melting, and it's not the sun, it's the room, and the room is burning, but it's just in my foot.

Is this what becoming a vampire feels like?

Edward, Bella, I'm too old for this. I don't want to be a vampire at this age, you shouldn't have bitten me. I'm not young. Just kill me.

just...kill...me


	13. flamed: part three (jack)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HEY KIDDOS!!! Guess who got their shit together? Here's the revised chapter that I kept saying I'd revise but hadn't gotten around. Also, very, VERY, soon I will be doing something BIG!
> 
> super excited and love you all,  
-raez

**AUTHOR'S NOTE- doo doo doo VIOLENCE and lots of it. if you're squeamish, beware! hope you all enjoy, and have a great night!**

The man approaches me out of the fog. He looks toward me and smiles. It's...Mark? Why is he here too? Did the people get him? NO!

But it's not Mark...he dissolves and I'm back into what seems to be my reality for now.

Confined in a dank, moldy basement, where my only hope of survival is to knock out my attackers, but it's not like I'd be able to do that. I'm so weak. It'd been a long day, even up until when I got kidnapped, but it's been almost 12 hours, and I feel like passing out.

the man slaps me again. How do I know he's a man? He's pulled down his face mask, and underneath is a surprisingly normal cookie cutter dad face. Kind of anticlimactic, to be honest.

He smiles, like he gets pleasure from watching my eyes water and face get redder. It's just been 12 hours of abuse, no questioning, no nothing.

The other person I can only assume is a lady, or a man with very pronounced breasts (probably implants), has punched me in the face, and I felt her diamond ring bite into my skin, blood streaming out of the wound.

My eye is bruised, and her ring hit me right at the corner of my eye, so it looks like I'm crying blood, almost like a metaphor for something. Language is a fluid thing. I don't think that I've used the word metaphor since 9th grade, and even then it was maybe only once I said it that entire year...

I'm falling back.

That year was awful. I had transferred from a different school district, and I was always a weird kid to begin with. I loved all sorts of mainstream things, but no one really expected much of me. I was forgotten in the middle of three kids, and while my younger sister was brilliant, my older sister tore a path of destruction her last two years. Failing classes, getting into fights, you name it. I was there to live down the family reputation, and Ruby was there after me to make it better.

I made it into college, not that that was worth anything...I mean, what kind of idiot was I picking hotel management? N one in the real world will actually use it...

When I met Angela, she was wonderful. She loved music, and Halloween, and spaghetti. She was always so adamant about her tastes. She was headstrong, but also smart. She majored in chemistry and planned to teach it to high schoolers, but ended up working at and Olive Garden two blocks away from our house.

It's so sad to see people fall apart. When they just..give up. It's terrifying to see people spiraling into oblivion, falling apart at their very seams, not knowing who they are, or even if they're themselves.

I suggested she get help, and she did.

At a catholic recovery center.

She hadn't known I was bi when we met, but she did after we were married and seemed ok with it, at least , I thought so.

I could still see her walking down the aisle, smiling at me, but it's not her. When she open her mouth to say her vows, all I can hear is screeching, I can feel the blood running out of my ears.

It's all a dream...it's all a dream.

Except for the blood. I don't know how these crazy motherfuckers did it but they managed to damage my eardrums so bad they started bleeding. Like, Eleven from stranger things bleeding out of her ears..

It's really painful, y'know? I has some sort of illness when I was a child, and my eardrum was filled with fluid, and then burst, but all I can remember are the two hours of agony that I had before. It hurt so bad, I thought my head was going to explode. I spent 2 hours on top of the ouch screaming my little lungs out, and when I finally fell asleep, the eardrum burst. Apparently my parents found me in my bed, a little puddle of blood and pus underneath my ear.

Pretty gross, right?

No. It's not gross compared to bugs. If there's one thing I hate, it's bugs. They're so gross, I just wanna scream when I see them. And most of the time I do. I'm not ashamed to admit it. They're terrifying.

And there are so many in this little cellar. If one type of bug disgusts me more than most, it's flies. The buzz makes me sick to my stomach. The larvae, little wriggling white worms, have actually made me vomit before.

They're awful, and there are hundreds of them buzzing around. That, combined with the smell of rotting me, is already making me dry heave.

I frantically motion for them to take my gag off, and after a glance at each other, they oblige.

I turn my head to the side and vomit, but it's gonna spawn a never-ending cycle. I hate vomit, but flies love it. It'll attract more flies, which'll attract more vomit, and the thought of that makes me hurl again.

I wish I could wipe my mouth.

Turns out there was another reason they took my gag off. They wanted to question me.

"So," The man says in what is obviously a fake accent, "do you know a man named Mark?"

"Yes..." I answer nervously, I don't want to know where this leads. I really hope he doesn't get hurt because of me, it would add more guilt to my conscience. I decide to keep my mouth shut for any more Mark-related questions.

As it turns out, all of them are Mark-related questions.

"How long have you known him?"

"A few days. He's-" I shut my mouth. I was about to tell more than I wanted to.

"He's what?"

Shit.

"He's really nice."

"That's good," the woman says with a terse, strained smile.

"Now, what do you want to do with him?"

"What?"

"We know you're a homosexual, so quit the bullshit and tell us what you want to do with him," the woman screams, pointing a taser my way. How the hell did she get a taser?

"Why should you care?"

"We just want what's best for him..."

"I doubt it. Well, if you're so interested, I could elaborate on the fundamentals of anal sex, or perhaps I could teach you how to give a good blowjob. Your husband looks like he's been forced to fuck his secretary for any sort of sexual release."

"Wow...I definitely went too far" is my last thought as she descends upon me in a murderous rage, a knife in hand.

My vision is pretty blurry, but I can see the two arguing, out of focus in the distance. I always wondered what a fish-eye view looked like in real life..

When I drop back into consciousness like the newest soundtrack, I'm instantly as alert as I can possibly, because it is significantly hotter in here, and it's not just me.

The room is on fire, and they're gone.

My blinking feels like it's in slow motion as I desperately try to clear the smoke from my stinging eyes.

I can feel the flames licking my skin. On the plus side, it might clot up all the blood pouring out of my side, and kill off the flies. One of them lands on my side and starts greedily licking up the blood, who's flow seems to be unaffected by the heat.

Eeeeew, what's in my mouth? I try to spit it out, but I can't, because they gagged me again. Meanies.

I finally slip away.

I'm finally, resting, dreaming. It's so nice, to have a white bed, comforter, sheets, one of those cool canopy things that hangs over you while you sleep. But...the canopy is turning red and it's falling and smothering me.

I wake up coughing, and they're pulling me out of a basement.

Wait, is one of them Mark?

I try to sit up, but my back hurts, and my neck hurts, and damn, the world is spinning.

I fall over, and maybe this time I can actually sleep.

It turns out I can sleep, the dreamless sleep of the dead, and I rejoice, because damn, I'm tired.

I jolt awake. Am I still with them?

I turn my head to the right (why isn't my body moving?) and Mark beams, his smile lighting up the room.

"Hey sleepyhead, you're up.

"How long did I sleep?"

"Oh, two days, give or take."

"Wow, that's a lot of sleep."

Suddenly, a thought hits me.

"The girls! When am I discharged?"

"Woah there buckarooney," he says in his deep voice, "it's gonna be a little while. Were you aware that you were stabbed?"

"No..."

Raising the bedsheets, I gasp at the gaping wound in my side.

Mark whistles appreciatively.

"Didn't know you were so ripped, Jackaboy."

"Hilarious."

I try to make my voice really scratchy and gravelly.

"You wanna know I got these scars?"

"Yes, actually. I want to interview/interrogate you."

I freeze up.

“What do you want to know?”

“Just the basics.”

I can’t tell him anything. If they find me again, they could hurt the girls, kidnap them, or worse.

“Ok…”

“Alright. Could you see the people that were there?”

I have to lie. Nothing can happen to them.

“No.”

“Are you su-”

“YES. Just ask me the next question already.”

“Alright. No need to get all defensive on me…Did you get interrogated by them? Or did they just ‘hurt you for fun’”

“I think they’re just psychopaths doing it for fun.”

“Even I can tell you’re lying.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Something happened, down in that house, and I need to know what it was, because if we have even a little snippet of information, we could use it to find them. Now please...TELL ME THE TRUTH.”

No.

“This is the truth.”

“You may have lost a lot of blood, but it wasn’t enough to not give you any memories.”

I shut my eyes and try to concentrate...to will away the thought of Clara and Elle, screaming as those masked people hurt them.

“Please...I just...no. that’s the truth. There’s nothing else.”

They bring in more people.

But they’re not gonna get anything out of me.

My children are not gonna get hurt because of my mistakes.

Mistakes…

I’ve made too many.

And I don’t want to suck my girls into them.

I wanted to get away, but she got away first. And that’s what I wasn’t prepared for. It took me more than a year to regain what I’d lost, to get us back to where we began. We had almost forgotten what happened before the court. I was excited when we got the house, and the girls were too.

We’d finally had a happily ever after, and I didn’t intend on my loose lips hurting anyone.

When I sleep, it’s restless, filled with things I don’t want to think about anymore. But I’ll hold these memories until the grave, if that’s what it takes.


	14. i'm back!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey guys, just some updates!

so, have you missed me? probably not...anyways, here are the updates y'all may have been waiting for. NANOWRIMO is kinda falling through, and I'm gonna post the first full chapter to see if you guys want me to continue or nah. I will also be working on longer chapters for both burn and The Bad Guy and the Plan!have a good day, and stay cool...love you all,  
-raez


	15. flamed: part four (jack)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey guys, i'm officially back! I can't wait to continue writing, but i have a huge courseload this year and I'm probably only gonna post a chapter a week. either way, i hope you enjoy the new one! also, i had an idea of a cute little "meant to be romance", y'all have any ideas? love you all,   
-raez

I wake up in a cold sweat. No...the girls. Sprinting downstairs, I call their names desperately but they don't answer. Then Mark steps out from around a corner.

"Why won't you tell us?"

His pupils are fully black.

"WHY WON'T YOU TELL US?"

"t-tell you what? I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know what I'm talking about."

Mark morphs into something entirely different. It's...Lena?

"Why won't you tell me why you're hurting Mark, Jack? I know where you live, it would be so easy to just make you...disappear. Or even better-your daughters."

"NO, NO! Please don't take them." I'm backing away, and she keeps on advancing, my doom impending. Then she's two people, blurring and shifting. Hurting me and threatening worse for my kids.

I cover my ears and scream,

"Stop...just please stop!"

I wake up in a cold sweat. No...not them. Sprinting downstairs, I call their names desperately but they don't answer.

I run back upstairs, into their bedroom, and let out the biggest sigh of relief. They're both there, looking like they've been interrupted.

I smother each of them with hugs and kisses.

"Yeesh dad, no need for this. You saw us literally last night."

"It doesn't matter. I'm just so glad-"

"So glad what?"

"Nothing. It doesn't matter. You guys ready for the sitter to come at 10?"

"Yeah."

"Whaddya think you're gonna do today?"

"Probably head to the pool."

"Sounds good. Remember to have your phone with you."

"Ok, dad. You gotta go get ready for work. You know, supporting you two kids and paying the mortgage and all."

"Shush. You don't know a diddly darn thing about either of those, and I'm perfectly fine as I am now."

"Oh, so running downstairs screaming our names is normal?"

"Not saying it is, but in this family, yeah."

"I can't believe you'd say that..."

"Mmm."

"That's it, it's time to head upstairs. No more loafing around in your pajamas."

"But Daaaaad."

"No buts. Miss Amy's gonna be here soon."

Clara instantly perks up.

"Yay! I hope she takes us to the pool today."

She sprints upstairs, and I watch until she disappears. When she's out of sight, I sigh and prop my head in my hands on kitchen island. I have to get ready for my job, but I don't want to. The thought of leaving the two of them alone, where someone could get them. What if they come back..for me? I wouldn't be able to tell anyone. 

But my priority is safety for them. I would die...if they were taken away. Shaking away my bleak thoughts, I proceed to get ready for work. As I head out, I spy Miss Amy, the sitter, coming in and wave to her. She smiles in return.

As I drive off, I contemplate texting Clara, but decide against it, because there's no way in hell she'd answer it. I rush into work, because the second I pulled out onto the road, two cars decide to have a head on collision and hold up traffic for half an hour. Ugh, today is not the day. Between my kid-related paranoia and this, I was super high strung. 

When I finally manage to make it into the doors, I'm yelled at by my boss, and I'm forced to sit there and take the humiliation. I can hear the jeers of my coworkers in the background...

Not married...

I hear he had an affair

Children's services needs to take them away, he lets them run buck wild. It's not good for them.

Bad father

I know where they are

All the usual stuff...wait, what was that last one? Who knows where they are? I see a familiar dad and mom-like figures slink around the corner in front of me, so I mentally keep track of them until my boss stops yelling. I apologize profusely, and speed after them.

As I reach the end of an aisle, an arm wraps around my shoulders.

"Hey there buddy," a voice says, and as I hear the words come out of his mouth, it makes me shiver. I realize with a start that I know these face's but I can't place the names

"What do you want me to do?" I say in a forced whisper, barely able to restrain myself.

"We need someone as a wingman."

"A...wingman?"

"Yes. Didn't you fucking hear me?" The man yells.

"Of course. What do you need me to do?"

"You might know a man named Mark. Well, he's obviously not going to be with you, but we need you to get rid of the 'competition' and such." The emotional blow hurts, but not as much as seeing Mark with someone else. Maybe I can sabotage? But then I remember that more than my happiness is on the line.

"Anything you say."

He whispers instructions in my ear, and then him and his lovely lady friend saunter away. I hear the click-clack of her sensible heels on the linoleum even as I hang my head down in defeat. Where was past me, the one who would stand up to a challenge? But then again, there were lives on the line. It wasn't for me to decide if I had to play cupid, I simply had to do it. And sorry, Mar, but you're not my blood. 

You might not be happy, but maybe some anonymous source will let you know that YOU saved lives.

My head is spinning after I get yelled at for the second time that day, now for not mopping the floors. I walk into the wrong department though, and every time I look in the mirror, I see Mark, the two people, and the girls all swirling around, one threatening, the other two pleading as they whirl in my head. I don't even notice that I'm falling until I crash into the mirrors behind me. 

The blood is flowing freely now, and I can't help but gasp at how red it is. This isn't the blood of a monster, it's simply that of a man, trying to survive. My manager yells at me (YET AGAIN) and miracle of all miracles, I'm sent home for the day. Thankfully, I don't have to actually go home, simply to the cafe down the street. Coincidentally, it's the same one that Mark abandoned me at, but I'm already settled in and I don't really feel like moving right now.

I got cleaned up at work, but I notice a a few drops of blood on my shirt, which definitely won't look good if someone sees me walking down the street. Not like people pay any attention to me, but splatters of blood are pretty noticeable.

After zipping up that jacket that was around my waist, I ask for directions to the restroom, and sigh in relief as I finally get in there and start scrubbing. I only have my jacket draped around my shoulders to keep me somewhat decent, but I figure that no one's really gonna be here. It's only 10 in the morning, after all.

And the I hear a toilet flush, and guess who walks out of the stall behind me but the best town librarian/firefighter combo. Fucking hell. What a perfect time, when I'm sitting there at a sink, washing blood of a shirt with watered down hand soap. I hope and pray that he doesn't recognize my face, but to no avail.

When he turns and looks at me, I see an expression of confusion and disgust cross his face. I attempt a halfhearted smile, but he turns away, and when I hear him exit the bathroom, I hear a muffled gag escape his (remarkably perfect) lips. I swear though, at the last second, I can see a slight blush tint his cheeks.

God dammit. Now i'm sitting here at a sink, trying to wash my shirt but only making it wet and blushing furiously. How could this day get any worse?

But...it doesn't. I enjoy a slice of lemon pound cake and some coffee at the cafe, then head home to take over with the girls after Miss Amy leaves. We chat about our days, and I leave out all the bad parts, simply saying that I was released early and went to go get a coffee.

Just thinking about those few minutes in the bathroom made me start kind of freaking out again. I end up bringing back the thing where I sometimes mix up my words, and that really messes up the illusion that I had a good day.

"Dad, are you ok?" Clara asks while Elle burbles in her high chair.

"Yeah...my day wasn't as good as it sounded, but I'm fine now."

"Whatever you say."

She picks Elle up and walks upstairs. I simply sit in her dust, taken aback my her abrupt shift in mood. Uh oh. Is what I think happening...happening?

Is she realizing that I don't actually have that much power over her and I don't actually know what the hell I'm gonna do week to week aside from the basics.

Work.

Pay the babysitter.

And...not spend time with them. 

I've been so busy trying to keep them alive and well, I haven't noticed that I'm the one who needs to be kept alive. Clara is here, taking care of the toddler, and cooking, and the babysitter just watches. Fuck. This is all my fault. I'm the one who needed to be there for them, but ever since she left, I just had to do it. I had to prove that I could survive without her.

So that's how it goes. I've been the single PTO dad for almost a year and a half now, and it works out. My job pays ok, but all of my savings came from the settlement after the events 2 years ago.

This isn't how it was supposed to be. My entire identity is based around being able to take care of my two kids, and yet I can't even take time out of my fucking day to spend the them.

I rest my forehead in the crease of my elbow and close my eyes. I really shouldn't be sleeping at the kitchen island, but I feel like I might just deserve it, with all of the deep thinking and such that I've just done.

For the second time this week, my dreams are filled with a...HOT KOREAN. (if you get that reference that's a million brownie points)

It's not even 18+ either, just...us together. Not married, but with each other just the same. We hold hands in public, and don't care what people think. I can hear my-no our, kids in the background shrieking with glee, and a smile spreads over his face as he dips me down for a rom-com worthy kiss. God, how I wish this was real. But it is real, isn't it?


	16. flamed: part five (jack)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> uh oh spaghetti

I wish it was real. His lips on mine, a perfect summer day.

God, I needed something to cheer me up. I was so tired I had passed the point of being tired and was just so exhausted I could stay awake forever. I opened my phone and decided to do something that I hadn't done it quite a while. Tapping on the wattpad app, I'm greeted by an entirely new home page. I didn't know they'd switched it up, but damn, it looks great.

I also have...no notifications. I hadn't realized that I'd been inactive for that long, but apparently I had. To clear things up, I didn't actually write, I simply read. I was a beta reader, and I had a whole fucking network of friends. But I had to stop it all when she left. It was too hard to read without someone constantly there. How could I give honest reviews with babies gurgling in the background? 

I posted a simple announcement to my meager 50-something followers- "I'm back", and waited for the heyday to begin. For friends to come crawling out of the woodworks.. For something good to happen. For the time being, I was friendless, and that was a really shitty thing to be. If being alone is a choice, it's fine, but being alone is not the same as being lonely. 

Speaking of lonely, my stupid lonely ass is now going to look around for fluffy boyxboy romances and pretend that Mark and I are together. DAMMIT, I'M SO CREEPY. THIS IS ALL MY FAULT. I HAVE TO STOP LIKING HIM. BUT...I can't. It's impossible. I just can't get his face out of my head. His dejected look when I told him that I wasn't going to tell hi anything. What kind of asshole would do that? Me.

I can't hold back. I have to drown this profound sadness in something. I missed my fucking chance is the only thought racing through my head as I search for something I can't keep...a relationship. I've read almost all of the books by now, and I'm, well I was, friends with a lot of the authors before I ended up, y'know, dropping off the face of the fucking earth, but I just can't find one that I don't recognize the color or cover of. Until I get to the bottom of the search results.

239 of 240 works. I can't believe I actually had the time to read all of this. I click on the story, and when I read the description, I gasp. It..can't be, can it? I check the authors name and I'm astounded. Fischy? It can't be...(oh but it can be). After searching my mind for the last name, I take a deep breath, click on the first chapter, and start reading. 

5 minutes later, I'm gaping, open mouthed, at a scene. This has to be...us? I anxiously keep reading, searching for signs, along the way recognizing all sorts of stuff that happened between us. All of it is romanticized, and I find myself blushing because I myself also pictured some of these scenes in my head. God. I'm not even sure who the creepy one is anymore.

When I get to the end, I see that the last chapter was posted only 2 days ago. I have to do some scouting. I look around on his profile and manage to find his tumblr account. In one of the aesthetic photos he's posted, I can see the the neon-lit Benny's Diner sign in the background.

"It's him."

I hurriedly re-read the story. Holy shit, it has a lot of views. Way more than I thought it would have. More than 1,000 people have read it? And as I scan the comments, I see things like "woah I totally ship these two." and "ohmigod they're adorable".

People really like this. It has one of the highest fucking like to vote ratios I've ever seen. I cannot believe it. 

First of all, I can't believe that this is very obviously about us, and secondly, that he would actually writing. 

I actually manage to work myself up enough that I'm about to go and private message him with cease and desist, but I decide that maybe, just maybe, it could be interesting to watch this play out, see where the hell it could possibly go.

I fall asleep to live vicariously through Mark's writing in my dreams, but not after following him.

When I wake up, I have some actual fucking announcements and messages waiting for me. It makes me smile, but only for a little as I realize that I have to go back to work and face the co-workers that saw me completely fall apart yesterday. I don't think I'll ever be able to look at a mirror again without thinking of that awful day, because that's going to be one of the things that haunts me at 2 am when I can't sleep.

Helpless. That's all that I am.

I make an audible noise when I remember Mark and the restroom debacle,, and cover my head becuse that's where the bad thoughts should stay. IT. HURTS.

Shackled.

Chained.

Beaten.

Bruised.

Crashing together at the same time. Them laughing. Me crying, sobbing for the children that I might lose.

I might lose them...

FUCK.

Snap out of it Jack, you can't right now. It's not the time. Go to work and You can say that everything is perfectly fine.

Perfectly normal. 

Your persona isn't cracking at the seams from the pressure of trying to hold the demons in. Breathe in, breathe out. You can do this. I plaster on a smile, but when I go to rouse the kids, their beds are empty. One glance at the bare beds has me terrified, but as I hear peals of laughter from below I sigh with relief. They're not gone, they just manage to exist without me. It's funny how life continues, even in the face of bad things life your father having mental breakdowns over breakfast.

It hurts me so much to think of them just rationalizing what happened to me. Just "oh yeah, he gets a little funky sometimes, but other than that, he's perfectly normal."

"Perfectly normal". Yeah right.

I'm driving to work when another flashback hits. Almost losing my focus on the road, I open my eyes at the last minute and hear honking as I realize that I've been drifting into the incorrect lane. Shit. Interrupting my sleep, my work life and my regular life. How long will this go one before my exhausted body just...fucking gives up? Say "No, I can't deal with this shit." and just quits on me.

It's a struggle to keep my eyes open, but I gulp down about three cups of watery coffee and manage to make it through the day, albeit if I look a little creepy with my gaunt, heavily shadowed face..

I don't even think that I'll be able to drive with how exhausted I am, so I decide to walk home. Yes, it may take half an hour, but at least I won't cause any accidents. It's slowly been getting more cold, and I can feel the nip of winter through the perfect fall day.

When I finally get home, now super cold and exhausted, I see Clara smiling up at me angelically, Elle in her arms with what can only be described as a smug baby smile on her face.

"What did you do? Was it mud pies? Because the last time that you did that you got dirt all over the floors and counters. I swear that I still find dirt in my food because of that."

"Sorry about that...not really. Those were the best mud pies I ever made-perfect texture."

"Too bad top chef. What did you do this time?"

"Someone wanted to see you."

"Who?"

And then I barely manage to hold in my gasp as someone steps out of the shadows like an estranged anime character. Guess who it is? Mark.

Fuck.

"You know Clara, there aren't really any good reasons for letting people into the house."

"He's nice. It's not like he's going to murder us or commit arson or something."

"Get out of here. That's a violation of house rules, and you know it."

She skedaddles her way upstairs, and I turn my attention to Mark.

"So, why the hell are you here?"

"I wanted to talk."

"About what?" I query suspiciously.

"Just anything. I miss having conversations with people." 

I barely conceal the curiosity burning of me as I motion for him to follow me into the living room. He flops down into a chair, and it's only then when I notice the bags under his eyes. 

"You look awful dude."

"Thanks."

"No, but seriously. How do manage to transform and look this bad in only a few days?"

"I dunno."

"I assume there's some reason for coming over to my house and actually talking to me, so spill."

"I just want to know what happened. To you, I mean."

"I can't tell. If all you want is information I can't help." His sentence shot me out of my seat, but then I remember the threat in the hardware store. My instincts scream no, but I suppose I have to feed him a fake story to try to get closer. This wingman stuff is going to shatter me, and I feel tiny pieces of my facade crack as he leans closer when I start feeding him the lies I have in my head.

I see the look of surprise and shock on his face, but this isn't my story. It's just made up. It's all made. Up. The lies pour out, and I can't stop them. When it's finally done and over with, my hand is frantically tapping my thigh like there's no tomorrow. 

"That's what you need to know. What you don't won't hurt you."

"God, Jack. That's so awful. What did these people look like?"

I describe two people I saw on a subway in D.C once, and then it's done.

As he walks out the door, I bid him goodbye. But then I fuck up.

"Ta-ta" is the only thing that I hope to say out loud, but the "writer" part that I whisper after it comes out a little louder than I'd intended.

"What was that?" He looks concerned.

"Oh, It was nothing. I'd just had you pegged as the quiet, handsome, writer type." I mentally slap myself, but he beams.

"Well, thanks."

"No prob. I'll see you later!"

Shit shit shit shit shit. How could this possibly get any worse? That's the question that I'm in the middle of asking myself when my phone starts buzzing it in my pocket. It's from an unknown number, but I answer anyways.

"Jim's whore house you got the-" but I abruptly stop my stupid line when I hear the voice on the other side of the phone.


	17. Announcements!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :3

love you all,  
-raez


	18. flamed: part six (3rd person)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey kiddos!! It’s been a rough few months for me, I basically lost my writing inspo, but I outlined a chapter and managed to type it out, just in time for Valentine’s Day. I might try to do a just a one chapter Valentine’s Day thing, leave a suggestion below. I’m so sorry for skipping out, I hope to be writing more soon, and hope you enjoy!!!  
love you all,  
-raez

Mark is only about halfway down the sidewalk, but Jack’s face is as white as a sheet of paper as he listens to the “unidentified” voice of the phone. He sighs, and when the speaker hangs up, he goes into his messages.  
hey mark, clara still has her debt to work off  
you want me to bring ‘em over and maybe hang out tmrw?  
yea, sure. id love to!  
sounds good. will 11 work?  
of course  
it’s a date  
Jack cringed at the wording of that, but Mark though of himself as smooth and pumped his fist at the thought of having Jack over, then realized the shithole his house had become, even after they’d cleaned it up the first time. He was almost too stressed to actually enjoy the thought.  
He too sighed, and grabbed some cleaning spray and a rag. It might be a tad bit of overkill, his apartment could probably be a little dingy, and he wouldn’t worry about it, but something inside of him desperately wanted to impress Jack. He knew he shouldn’t try to hard, Jack hadn’t even seemed himself today. But Mark was a compassionate person, at least that’s what he was thinking in his head as he furiously scrubbed at a mysterious red stain.   
What had Jack said to him as he left? Something about writing? But as the neurons fired, his heart started to speed up. He felt panic grip his throat, but tried to continue on with his normal duties for a few more seconds before panic completely took over.  
He fell onto his couch, pressing his face into a pillow and trying not to hyperventilate. Did Jack know his last name? How in the world had he found Mark’s work out of all of the millions on wattpad?  
It took about 5 minutes and a small snippet of a youtube video to help calm him down, but he breathed out a sigh of relief as he felt his tensed muscles unclench. Gritting his teeth, he slowly pulled himself back onto his feet, listlessly dusting with about...  
0 enthusiasm. But with a spark of excitement, he remembered that of course he didn’t need to clean, Clara was coming.  
Jack stood nervously in front of Mark’s door, reaching out, but just before he knocked, Clara reached out and sharply rapped her knuckles three times. She smiled up at Jack.   
“Sorry Dad, I was just getting bored of watching you stare at the door without doing anything.”  
Jack rolled his eyes but couldn’t contain the smile in him from the idea of seeing Mark. There was also a flash of parental pride coupled with a slight tinge of sadness. It suddenly onset as he started thinking about how old Clara was getting.  
Mark was taking an unusually long time answering the door, and after about 30 seconds of waiting, Jack abruptly turned. With an oddly strained expression, he said in a slightly panicked voice “that he had probably gotten the date wrong”, but Clara reached out, grabbed his sleeve and turned him around right before Mark answered the door.  
She then proceeded to skip right past Mark, through the open door, and in a desperate attempt to make it look like he was at least an ok parent, Jack called after her, but it was a lost cause. She called over her shoulder.  
“Hey Mark, if you aren’t going to use those minecoins, can I have them?”  
“Oh sure, I didn’t wanna try to return them, it was way too complicated to try.”  
“Are you really gonna reward bad behavior like that?”  
“Pfft, it’s not that bad.”  
“Ok then...I can help you return them if you want though.”  
“No, I swear….it’s fine.”  
“If you say so.”  
Clara beamed, and Mark beamed right back at her. Jack was momentarily caught off guard by how...beautiful he looked when he grinned. Mark’s smile took up his entire face, and light seemed to burst out of it. His forehead wrinkled, and the smile creases at the corners of his lips grew deeper.   
He was shaken out of the smile-beam induced trance when Elle shoved her finger into his ear. Mark was simply relaxing on the couch, watching as Clara frantically attempted to clean as fast as she possibly could. Mark tried to remind her that it was quality, not quantity that mattered, but in her minecoin fueled cleaning, she simply didn’t hear.  
It was like that John Mulaney bit where his wife asked him if he was watching the road and he replied “I am looking through the windshield.” She was just on autopilot. Oh well. Jack settled down next to Mark, flopping as dramatically as possible onto the couch.  
“Catch me Markimoo,” he cried, but when he looked over at Mark, he saw something deep shining in the other’s eyes. Jack fell into Mark’s lap, and to hell with it. If I’m going to spy, I might as well get as much as I can out of it. He decided to stay there, and smiled up.   
Mark was feeling pretty damn good about all of this, and the smile on Jack’s face combined with his touch-starved ass was making his heart beat more than just a little bit faster. Although it took a few seconds, a blush slowly made its way onto his face, and a shiver ran down his spine.   
“What shall we watch?”  
Mark had queued up netflix in the meantime. He thought to himself that unfortunately, they wouldn’t be able to chill...yet. ;)   
“Anything in particular? Movie? TV series?”  
“Have you perchance seen...Miraculous?”  
“Isn’t that a kids show?”  
Mark snagged Elle from the floor.  
“Now I’ve got two cuties with me…”  
Jack blushed, and then said “Yeah, it’s technically a kids show but it’s got a super big following for some reasons that you will find soon.”  
“Ooh, I’m always one for a mystery.” Mark felt a sense of foreboding saying those words, but though nah, no one has secrets they won’t share with me. Ha...everyone knows that you should never say things like that, you never know when they’ll come back to bite you in the ass…  
Moving away from that intense foreshadowing (wink wink), Elle stared at the tv in wonder as the title scene flashed. Jack’s instinct kicked in, and he started singing the theme under his breath. It slowly grew in volume until Mark was looking at him in confusion and wonder.  
Clara sighed and rolled her eyes. Her dad’s song was interrupting the snooping she was doing. She found a small scrap of paper on the bedside table, and took note of the things written on it, smiling as a light grew in her eyes. Then, she went back to cleaning.  
Mark was still looking down, and Jack was smiling like the happy little bean he was while Elle clapped from beside his head. And then, they were distracted. Mark smiled. He would watch it, just to appease the adorable two beside him. For a second, he imagined that this was his life, but he looked down and saw Jack beaming, laser-focused on the show, and when he looked up, he was trapped.   
5 episodes later, Mark found himself enraptured by the love square, the awkwardness of Marinette, and all of the other second hand embarrassment of the show. Apparently Jack didn’t react well to that, because at a few points he just jumped up and started yelling at the tv or running around shaking his head. He cheered every single time that Marinette caught an akuma, and booed whenever he saw Hawkmoth’s face.  
To be completely honest here, Mark wasn’t really focusing on the show, more on Jack. When Jack laughed, Mark could feel the sound echoing through his torso, and smiled.  
Jack knew he was being way too outgoing, and after the next episode started up, he quieted down, and asked Mark where the bathroom was. After being directed down the hall, he waited until he was out of sight and looked around until he found Mark’s room.   
Gotta collect info is what he was thinking as he hopped onto the bed, and laid down. But it just turned into a minute of him laying there absorbing the scent of Mark. He sighed, and went about his business, taking pictures of the room, and saving them, even though he felt like puking hle he did it. He could hear Elle giggling in the living room though, and if there was one thing that he didn’t want to happen, it was anything to her.  
He gritted his teeth, and when the job was finally done, he went back to the bathroom and flushed the toilet, checking how guilty he looked in the mirror. He gave himself a mini pep talk. Maybe he would mention Lena? No, better to make sure Mark wouldn’t question it when he asked. He had to wait...even if it would hurt more when the time came.  
Jack walked out of the bathroom, and although he knew Mark was probably a touchy feely kind of guy, he didn’t want to take any chances. Even though his heart screamed out to maybe sit just a little closer, he refused to give in, and sat stiffly on the couch, putting Elle between himself and Mark.  
He knew that he should probably appear more relaxed, but was too on edge. There was still so much that he had to do, and being nice to Mark was not on that list.  
He felt restless, and from just a glance he could tell that Mark was picking up on those vibes. Come on, something to do, just to fix the nerves a little bit. Soup! That’s it!  
“Mark, is it ok if I use the kitchen?”  
“Yeah.” Mark’s voice sounded strained, Jack could tell that much, but he couldn’t really read what was going on inside of Mark’s head. Internally, Mark was freaking out. What had he done wrong? Jack was the one initiating all of this shit, but Mark knew he did something wrong, he just knew it. Why did he have to be such a fuckup? C’mon, shake if off, be cool. That’s what you know how to do.   
Mark faked a smile, and turned back to the tv, but Elle wriggled impatiently in Jack’s arms as he tried to coax her into helping him cook.  
“Are you sure you don’t wanna help?”  
“No! I wanna watch Ladybug.”  
“Fine, go join Mark.”  
Elle shrieked in glee as Mark scooped her up, and soon they were both ensnared by the lure of miraculous. Even Clara occasionally glanced up from her speed cleaning to catch a few glimpses.  
Jack felt so cozy, but thoughts of the pictures on his phone kept on popping into his mind, and they just wouldn’t go away. Ashamed, he turned away from the scene and back to the soup, trying to convince himself that it was only the heat from the stove making his face hot.  
They enjoyed a hot meal around the small table, and whenever Jack and Mark’s knees would bump, they would both share a meaningful glance. Mark smiling, and Jack with something else in his eyes.  
After Clara finished cleaning and Jack was about to leave, the other man went in to hug him, but as he did, Jack flinched.  
“Are you ok?” Mark looked super hurt and confused, and it almost made Jack cry.  
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said stiffly, and turned. “Let’s go, girls.”  
In the car on the way home, Jack listened to Fidelity by Regina Spektor, pretended his kids didn’t notice his tears, and sent the photos.


	19. A BIG MCFRICKIN' THANK YOU/SPEECH

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> down below :3

HEY EVERYONE!!!! You may have noticed that this story has hit over a 1000 reads!!! I'm so excited and thankful to all of my wonderful supporters, let be honest, it was all you guys. I know this might not make sense for people to read a few months from now, but I'm so excited. When I started out writing April of last year, I never thought I'd make it this big. Everyone here has been so supportive and helpful, and I'm glad I found such a wonderful community to spend my time in! Again, thank you all so much, and when I say it, I truly do mean it.  
love you all,  
-raez

PLEASE FEEL FREE TO COMMENT WITH WHAT YOU'D LIKE TO SEE NEXT!!! I would like to start the bad guy and the plan again after I finish updating it on here, but any short stories, fandoms, etc. you think I might like? I love talking/interacting with you guys, it makes me so happy! Drop a comment, ask a question, give a suggestion, and I'll see you all in the next chapter!


	20. flamed: part seven (3rd person)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!!! Can't wait to start writing again, I'm aiming for a chapter a week, but as the summer gets closer and depending on my motivation, that could change up a little. Thank you guys for staying here and being awesome, and getting this story over a thousand reads! I'm so astonished, and I thank each and everyone of you for sticking around as I try to write and get my shit together.
> 
> love you all, raez

Mark woke up to a faint buzzing on his bedside table like he had many mornings before. He was greeted by his usual twitter and instagram, but one thing that immediately popped out at him was a message notification from wattpad. It was one of many, but this was not the usual 'wow, I love your stuff' or "I wanna write with you" stuff. It was more along the lines of a threat.

He gave a half-hearted laugh and pretended it was fine as he went through his apps, checking out everything that had happened over night. Not much, but the news woman, Nadja Chemak, was talking about how house fires had almost increased tenfold this summer and how there may be a suit out for G&M for increased risk of dryer fires.

The notification taunted him as he opened the wattpad app, trying his best to respond to all of the comments on his story, a little orange dot in the corner of his screen. With hesitation, he tapped it nd the full message was revealed.

Actually, it was a lot less foreboding than it seemed, just a message reading "I can turn you straight." Not particularly pleasant, but whoever this...crazy fan? He didn't think it was proper to call her a fan, if she was messaging him, but whoever she was didn't deserve the time of the day was what he was thinking as he checked for links and affiliates in her bio.

Nothing...this account had just popped up. Was she really that disgusted that she created an account just t send him this weird shit? Maybe she was just a bot. He comforted himself with that thought, let it wrap him up like a blanket. Just a bot. He felt himself getting sleepy, eyes drooping as he plugged his phone in and drifted away.

He woke up a few hours later, and his phone was buzzing. 

"We saw you saw our message Mark, why are you ignoring us?"

"W-what?"

"I said, I'm calling because of a car accident you were in this week that was not your fault-"

"You said something about messages?"

"No sir."

"No, I swear you said something about messges."

He heard the telemarketer whisper not so secretly to a coworker "He's loony"

"I'm not loony."

"I'm hanging up now sir."

He shook himself awake/. What even was that? It was probably him in a sleep induced haze. Look at him, hearing voices, they would send him to the loony bin if he kept acting like that. He headed into the kitchen to make himself breakfast, after Jack had left, he still had to clean a little, and got a called in for late night fires...again.

That was odd, that there had been such an influx. No one could really trace them to anything, but it was obviously a lot of gasoline because they simply would not go out, the houses had been decimated, and Mark had bought so many brownies from fundraising brownies he had actually gained a little weight over the past few weeks.

He shook his head again. What to eat? Eggs, with hot sauce, that would probably work. Nah, you know what? Might as well treat himself. He decided on homemade waffles with strawberries and whipped cream. He liked them extra crispy, and the whole process took almost 2 hours, but it was worth it. While watching more episodes of miraculous, he couldn't help himself, he squealed like a little kid whenever the cute little ships came up, he just couldn't help himself. It was just so good!

While washing the plates and cleaning up, he thought about reading, and realized that "The Book Thief" was still sitting, unopened on his shelf. He hadn't read it, hadn't bothered himself with reading it in high school, hadn't cared enough to read it as a librarian, but recommended it anyways because it was "such a good read".

There was no better time than the present, though, he guessed as he slouched over to the couch and commenced reading. Four hours later he had given up on doing anything during the day and really just decided to read as much as he could. 

a few hours after that, he was nearing the end of the book, and before he knew it, he felt tears streaming down his face. When you lose...everything. How the sky of Himmel St. looked like red, thick soup, with flecks of pepper in it. A torn girl, standing on the road cradling the body of her best friend. God, it was so tragic how the human heart was so breakable yet so resilient, because even after losing everything, this girl carried on, held her had high, found love, and welcomed death with open arms.

He slammed the book shut and threw it into the wall, still crying. It was a goddamned rotten world, and sometimes you just have to remind yourself of that. But he felt himself smiling through the tears. Behind the veil of death, it really as a happy ending. Sometimes, things that you don't want to happen still happen. The future is fluid, and you have to do you want.

He opened wattpad, feeling a little refreshed, replied to the message, and closed it out. Maybe a walk would be nice. Summer was waning, and the hot humidity was slowly being replaced with the cool, crisp air of fall.

The day was overcast but somehow warm, and a slight sprinkle misted his face as he stepped outside. He smiled. His favorite kind of day. The wind was blowing, and his flannel had a slight billow as he walked down the street with a newer spring in his step. Where should he go? Bakery? He decided to get some break an apple butter, and headed to the park.

Drops of water soaked through the seat of his pnts, but he didn't care because at this moment, he was at peace. If he could maybe just-FREEZE! Across the street, a man had just stopped someone.

He noticed that the smaller, slighter person was cowering, he almost seemed to be pleading. What in the hell? Leaving his bread and butter behind, he sprang towards the person.

He slapped the man fully across the face, motioning to the smaller figure. 

"Run, go. Now!" 

The person, a younger man it seemed, planted his feet.

"No. This business is mine. It's you that you should be saving. It would be best if you left and never came back."

It was all a blur after that, but Mark knew that the scrape on his arms wasn't your normal "on the corner of a kitchen cabinet" deal. He desperately tried to recollect the mans face, and his warning.

Maybe it was time for some mac and cheese, soul food.

As he boiled the water, salted it, and etc. his mind was racing. Was there anything that he could possibly identify about this guy? Well, either one. Both had seemed so familiar, but the identifier had nagged at the back of his mind like an itch he couldn't scratch.

He decided to write it out, and although he couldn't perfectly recreate the scene in his mind, he tried his best to put the fear and confusion into it, although they hadn't seemed like big things to him at the time.

He smiled at all of the comments, and felt pride at how much feedback he'd received...people weren't criticizing his writing for once. 

He shuddered at the thought of a flashback. He was in his parents kitchen, 20 years prior. His mom was berating him on his test score. 

"How do you even fail an english test? You speak the language for gods sake."

"I don't know. I studied."

"Obviously not hard enough. No time with friends until your grades go up."

"Mom, please, I haven't seen them in forever."

"Sorry, you know the deal."

He sighed. He hadn't had much time with friends as a kid. With how self-conscious he was, it was a wonder that he was even able to order at restaurants.

He was overcome with the notion that suddenly, this world was spinning too fast. He had to do something, be something, leave his name on the world before it forgot him forever. The thought of being forgotten chilled him to the core, what a scary though. The human psyche begs to be remembered, screams out for recognition, and that's what his soul was doing right now. 

He took out his phone with trembling hands, and texted Jack.

Would you maybe wanna catch a movie sometime? 

Mark sighed. His "something" had been done. There was nothing to worry about, everything was fine, at least for now.

Jack's phone buzzed. It was a message from Mark, that couldn't mean anything good. He stared down at his phone, willing himself to open it. Finally, with hands hesitating over the keyboard, he read it and replied.

Yeah, I'd love to!

After sending the message, he sat down shakily. He knew they were monitoring his hone, it would only be a matter of time-his phone rang. 

A malicious voice emanated from it.

"What did you just do, faggot?" It spat.

"I-i-I swear, I'm just doing it to help her. Nothing's gonna happen. Please, trust me. It'll all work out."

"It better. Don't worry, we remember where you live, so we'll have no trouble finding those precious little ones of yours."

"I understand, sir."

"You better."

He put his head in between his needs. What a fucking twisted mess this all was...


	21. Flamed: part 8 (3rd person)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, updates arriving on not one, not 2 but, all of my stories this/next week. Are you a fan of the bad guy and the plan? Bam! Update either today or tomorrow. Waiting for that anti rampage chapter, you got it buckarooney. The superhero au no one wanted??? BITCH WE WRITING TOMORROW SO EXPECT THAT SOON. New miraculous chapter out today, and lmk if you want a nookredd fic comment please! I’m writing one, and people really do be loving it on wattpad. Love you all, -raez

It me! Your least favorite author because I literally only update once every other month!!

Jack stared down at his phone. Mark had sent him a selfie, standing in the kitchenette. There was a dot of whipped cream on Mark's nose and he got the sudden urge to drive over there and lick it off.

He shook his head. Jack, you can't catch feelings, you have kids and this simply wouldn't work out. Maybe he'd just be better with a nondescript girl that he could live his life with. And Jack could marry another nondescript and then he would go and find a thousand men like Mark and break their hearts.

He shook his head yet again, and then headed to the kitchen, nearly grabbing the spray cheese out of the fridge when he went to get whipped cream. After situating himself on the couch, he settled in to watch another wonderful episode of MIraculous.

Mark was thinking about Jack, that was really all that he was doing lately. He ignored the pang in his stomach and thought of picnics and movies, stolen kisses and soft hugs. Things that he hadn't had since high school. The wanting became so bad, he hugged a pillow and let a few tears fall.

He stared at the TV screen sadly, unaware that across town Jack was doing the exact same thing. It was like a mirror, but...depressing. 

Mark remembered the man on the street, and it suddenly nagged at his brain. Like ian itch that he couldn't reach, something about the attacker's thick, beefy neck, and tall stature rung a bell. What if something had happened to that guy? He remembered being told to go away, staring at the slight figure sopping wet, and his overwhelming urge to do...something filled him again

But he couldn't...he had to though. His conscience overcame his fear, and he rushed out to the street where he had seen the slighter figure disappear. He somewhat recognized his surroundings, and spotted the library down the street. Lots of people used it for shelter in the rain, so maybe he was there?

As he walked in, he smiled at the paper-scented air filling his lungs. He headed towards the back, half heartedly pretending that he was looking for a book, but also tracking the wet footsteps on the floor. Of course, they were almost faded but it was the only chance he had.

Mark heard a faint sniffling noise coming from the langue in the back, and walked in to see Gina with her arms around a slight man. He almost thought that it was Jack for a second, but then realized that it was only a resemblance and sighed. 

GIna looks up in surprise, but regained her composure. "Come here to work some overtime?"

"Not today, I was worried about...him." Mark gestured vaguely towards the man.

"His name is Ethan."

"Yes. Ethan."

Ethan turned towards Mark, and didn't smile. 

"Why did you follow me?"

"Because I was worried. Whatever you were doing, I got concerned."

"I told you not to."

"Sue me for caring."

Gina looked at Mark. "Will you come with me for a second, Mark?"

"Yeah, sure..." he replied warily.

"Alright, listen, he's on the run from some bad shit. I'm sorry to ask you this, but he needs a place to-"

"A place to stay? I'm on it."

Gina looked super relieved. "Thank you," she whispered.

Across town, Jack got up from watching TV. He knew that he wanted to see Mark. When he walked out fo the door though, he realized he hadn't filled in the girls. 

"I'll be right back, don't commit any felonies, or at least don't get caught, ok?"

"Whatever," was the call from upstairs.

He walked out of the driveway, but on the way out saw a car in his driveway. 

"Hey there, whaddya need?"

"Uhhh...is this Becky's house?"

"Nope, sorry, must've been the wrong address. Where did she say she was?"

"Maybe you can help me."

She grabbed Jack's arm and pulled him toward her, then grabbed his phone out oh his back pocket.

"What are you doing?"

"Putting the directions in your phone hun. You can direct me around."

"Give me my phone back."

"No can do, sweetie."

"Give it back," he snarled. 

"Why are you doing this, I don't even know you."

"Do you want want to?"

"No, I want to go see my friend, Mark. Give me my phone back and fuck off."

She looked disappointed, but relinquished her grip on his phone and hurried back into her car, pulling out of the driveway with her tires screeching.

Jack got in his car, and started driving to Mark's apartment.

But he stopped dead outside when he saw Mark carrying another man in with a smile.

He pulled a u-turn, and started driving home, red and humiliated at the thought that Mark would actually care.

Mark saw the back end of a car peel away, but didn't take much notice of it. He had Ethan to worry about.


	22. Update!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read below plss

If you like this fic, I’m sorry to say that I have decided that I will no longer be posting chapters. However, if you would like to continue writing it, let me know and I will link your endings and continuations! Love you all, -raez


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